


Happiness is Found in Pink Milkshakes and a Blonde Ponytail

by Rachie_Boo123



Category: Archie Comics, Archie Comics & Related Fandoms, Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Anxiety, Betty Cooper & Kevin Keller Friendship, Dark Jughead Jones, Depression, Drama, Eating Disorders, Emotional, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Gun Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Jughead Jones is Not Asexual, M/M, Physical Abuse, Protective Jughead Jones, Romance, Self-Harm, Serpent!Jughead, Tattooed Jughead Jones, Teen Angst, Teen Romance, bughead - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-11
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-03-03 09:52:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 57,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13338735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rachie_Boo123/pseuds/Rachie_Boo123
Summary: When Jughead Jones rolls up to Pop's one night, he expects it to be another lonely burger filled evening in his favourite booth. However, when a brave blonde from out of town peeks his interest he finds himself feeling things he hasn't felt in a long time. The blonde, Betty Cooper, is as smart as she is beautiful. However as 'perfect' as she may appear on the outside Jughead can recognize the darkness that clouds her eyes as well as he can recognize his own reflection. They share something much more intimate than flesh against flesh over a couple of pink milkshakes, two burgers, and a plate of fries. If Jughead didn't know any better he might say this was love.





	1. Pop's Chock'lit Shoppe

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, everyone, this is my first ever Bughead fic and my first fic without an OC. I hope I got their voices right and that it's an enjoyable read. I'm not sure if this is a one-shot or what, let me know if you want more. Comments and Kudos would be loved, appreciated, and inspiring! I wrote this all in about 30 minutes so let's hope it doesn't suck. 
> 
> Also, Betty is 17 in this story and Jughead is 21. The age of consent in the country I live in (Canada) is 16 so I didn’t mark it as underage, but I did want to make note of it.

The sound of a motorcycle could be heard in the distance as the fog rolled in over the horizon. It was late, the sun had completely disappeared only to be replaced by a bright, full moon that hung in the sky precariously. It almost looked like a string was holding up the glowing orb and dangling it amongst the many stars that pinpricked the dark blanket of night.

The rumbling of the bike grew louder as it pulled into a spot outside of Pop's Chock'lit Shoppe. The figure on the bike wore a fitting black tee with matching jeans and to complete the look a leather jacket was slung over his shoulders. It was the kind of jacket that was real and worn, not a designer piece but a piece of who he was. However, this did not eliminate the attractive qualities the jacket emitted. For all its tattered edges and worn lines only enhanced the man's attractive features. His jaw was sharp and angular and when he leaned his head back to shake out his overgrown curls it seemed to stretch all the way to his ears. His incredible jaw was accompanied with high cheekbones that were so sharp they seemed to pull and poke through his skin. His unruly hair, much like his outfit and persona he carried around with him, was the colour of ink. And most of the time, a stray dark curl would fall from his crown shaped beanie, that was always perched on his head, and onto his forehead or into his impossible glacier eyes that pierced anyone who looked into them.

The man flicked his wrist to turn off the bike, cutting the engine and engulfing the outside of the diner in silence. The hand he used to turn and remove the key was adorned with bruises and split knuckles, a collection of dried blood adhering to the bony surface. His right leg stretched out to kick down the stand to balance the bike on its side as he threw his leg over the other side.

The towering figure made his way into Pop’s diner, demanding the attention from the patrons of the restaurant but at the same time caring less if he got it or not. Although a regular to the diner since he was a kid, things had changed since then. Wandering gazes of fellow residents of Riverdale avoided looking at the black-clad figure, fearing to gain his attention and hardened gaze. The only person on this side of town that didn’t treat him with fear was Pop Tate. Pop Tate always greeted the man with a kind smile and a warm meal, both which were rarities in the young man's life.

This time was no different, as Pop had already started a cheeseburger, or two, on the grill when he heard the roar of a motorcycle in the distance. The combat boot boy walked toward his booth in the far back corner, lean legs carrying him across the tile graciously. Although never spoken out loud it was known that this certain booth was Jughead Jones’s.

This is why when he saw a blonde ponytail and a pink pastel sweater in his seat he halted, an eyebrow quirking in surprise. After a moment he continued waltzing towards the booth, sliding into the red lacquer seat across from the blonde.

The blonde looked up from her strawberry milkshake, green innocent eyes meeting his blue hard ones.

“Can I help you?” the blonde asked, her voice soft with no bite.

“This is my booth,” Jughead said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. However, he could tell she was new in town. He would have remembered a face like hers.

The Hitchcock blonde tilted her head in confusion, surveying the half-empty diner around them, “I think you can sit somewhere else, there are plenty of other empty booths.”

“I want this one,” he deadpanned, leaning back and stretching his arm across the back of the booth as if to claim the seat as his.

“Well so do I,” the blonde quipped, curled ponytail swinging as she straightened in her seat.

The beanie-wearing boy couldn’t help the twitch of his mouth as it went up in the corner, this girl was something else. Before either could say anything else Pop had put down two cheeseburgers in front of the boy, along with a vanilla milkshake and side of fries. He too paused seeing the blonde in Jughead’s booth, only shooting her and then the Jones boy a glance before returning to the counter.

Jughead noticed the way the girl’s eyes fell to the food and she unconsciously swiped her tongue across pink-tinted lips.

“Hungry?” he asked, picking up a burger and taking a large bite out of it.

The blonde shook her head fast, ponytail bouncing as she did so.

“No, no. Besides I can’t eat cheeseburgers, my mom would kill me if she ever found out.”

Jughead stared at the girl before him, noticing the dark smudges under her eyes and the sharp angles of her face. She was beautiful, no doubt about that. But there was something else about her, a lingering darkness or tiredness that seeped into her eyes and tinged her voice when she spoke.

“I won’t tell if you don’t,” he replied, sliding over his plate to her.

“Is this a bribe so I’ll leave you alone?” the blonde asked, hands curling into fists under the table to keep herself from devouring the burger whole.

Jughead shook his head, popping a fry into his mouth and chewing it thoughtfully. “I have decided,” he started pausing to sip from his milkshake “there’s enough room in this booth for the both of us.”

“How generous of you,” she replied rolling her green eyes.

“You have no idea,” the older man replied, flicking his eyes up to meet hers once again.

The two stared at one another for a moment, drinking in each other's features and silently conversing in a way neither had done before.

The green-eyed beauty decided to break the silence, uncurling her fist to stick her hand out between the two in a friendly gesture.

“I’m Betty, Betty Cooper.”

He stared at her hand for a moment, thrown off once again, but shaking it firmly as he replied “Jughead Jones”

“Jughead?” she sputtered, amusement lighting up her eyes.

“It’s a nickname, trust me the real thing is much worse”

“I doubt that,” she teased, toying with the straw of her milkshake.

He grinned at this, enjoying the banter. It had been a long time since someone had talked to him like a normal person instead of the leader of the Southside Serpents.

“Eat your burger before it gets cold,” he directed, gesturing to the burger with a loose handful of fries pinched between two of his fingers.

Betty, finally giving into the gnawing in her stomach and the demanding gaze of the man in front of her, took a bite of the burger moaning at the taste.

Jughead swallowed hard, trying not to let the sound of the beautiful girl before him flood to his groin.

“So,” Betty said, after swallowing her bite “you live around here?”

“You don’t,” he deflected, tossing the fries into his open mouth.

“How do you know that?”

“I would know if someone like you lived here, besides the population of this town is about 5 people.”

“Well, I just moved here, me and my family,” Betty explained.

“Why Riverdale?” he asked, leaning forward on leather covered elbows and letting the dark curl, that often did, fall into his eyes.

“Haven’t you heard?” Betty exclaimed, fake shock lighting up her eyes as she leaned forward much like he did “It’s the town with pep!”

At this Jughead barked out a laugh, causing the few people in Pop’s to turn to their table in shock, no one had ever heard him laugh before. Betty laughed too, hers was much softer than his, sounding more like the bell above the diner’s door than anything else.

“Honestly though,” Betty said, her voice dropping to more of a whisper and her gaze leaving him “it was all my parent's idea. I didn’t want to move, but they got a job offer here and decided to pack up our whole life. I mean it wasn’t like I really had one back home but…” she trailed off, teeth coming down to clamp on her bottom lip nervously. “I’m sorry, I don’t normally ramble like this” she blushed, pulling at her pink sleeves till they covered her hands.

“It’s okay, I don’t mind,” he found himself saying before he could control himself. Maybe the pink tinge of her cheeks, that was driving him crazy, had gotten to his brain.

“Well, either way, we are here now so I’m going to try and make the best of it.” She explained, a determined look on her face.

“And what does making the best of it entail?”

“I’m not sure yet,” the blonde confessed, chewing on a fry from their shared plate.

“I have a feeling whatever it is, it will be great,” he confessed, blue eyes meeting green as a type of vulnerability she had never seen before pooled in his.

She smiled at him, a soft sad smile that made his insides feel funny and his heart beat fast in his chest.

“Enough about me,” Jughead wasn’t sure if there could ever be enough of Betty Cooper but he let her continue “what about you? You’re very…” she trailed off unsure of the right word to use.

“Badass?” he supplied, grinning wide.

She shook her head, twisting her mouth as she thought, which Jughead thought was adorable.

“Something I don’t think they have made a word for yet, a mixture of authenticity and mystery and specks of hardness throughout. But I think there’s something soft and sincere on the inside, I saw it in your eyes when you laughed. It was real, more real than anything I’ve felt or seen in a long time, maybe forever even. It’s something that I think is entirely Jughead.” Her cheeks tinted pink once again, but her gaze did not waver from his. She wanted him to know what she said was true, that it meant something.

This was not the answer Jughead was expecting. In fact, this was not the night Jughead was expecting.

“Where the hell did you come from, Betty Cooper?” he breathed, eyes wide and a dazed look in his eyes.

She smiled at this, peeking over the edge of her milkshake as she took a long sip, no longer thinking about the calories or hours in the gym it would take to burn off this meal. Jughead had seemed to make her forget all of this, even if only for a moment a weight was lifted off her shoulders.

“I could say the same about you, Jughead Jones” she replied, echoing his words back to him in the sincerest way.

The night at Pop’s continued to much later than Betty’s curfew allowed, but she was lost in the moment savouring the way he would erupt in laughter and how his mouth would turn up at the corner as he watched her talk. It was a quarter past eleven when Betty had realized the time, at this she jumped from the booth, startling the handsome boy.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, unable to control the tug of his mouth as the corners pointed downwards.

“I’m so late, my mom is going to kill me!” Betty exclaimed, frantically trying to pull her light jean jacket over her arms but struggling immensely.

“Calm down, just tell her you lost track of time,” he reassured quietly, even though there was no one in the diner to hear the soft words he spoke.

“You don’t know her, calm down is not in her vocabulary, Juggie.” The nickname slipped through her lips unconsciously, but she was too worked up to notice it. Jughead, however, was not. And he would swear to the day he died that he did not feel butterflies in his stomach or anything of the sort when she spoke it.

“It will be fine,” he promised, letting his hands come to rest just below her shoulders as he looked into her moss coloured eyes.

And for some reason, unbeknownst to Betty or Jughead for that matter, this worked. The anxiety which seemed to be coiling in her stomach and springing out of control had managed to be soothed, if even momentarily.

The two were much closer than before, only a few inches separating them. His head was ducked down so he could look into her eyes and his thumb was rubbing soothing circles on her biceps. Betty, who had managed to half pull on her jacket made no move to adjust the sleeve which had fallen to hang from the crook of her elbow.

“Will I see you at school?” the blonde asked, realizing that they had skipped past the mundane stuff during their conversation.

“I’m not in school,” he murmured back, trying to focus on anything besides the smell of strawberry and vanilla that was enveloping his senses.

“You dropped out?” she asked, surprise colouring her face as she could tell from the way he held himself he was very smart.

“I graduated, three years ago.”

“Oh.”

“Oh?” he questioned, trying to keep his eyes from flicking to her lips.

“I’m in high school…” she said, feeling childish all of a sudden. Even the word seemed juvenile to her now.

“I figured,” he mused, a glimmer of a laugh reflecting in his eyes.

The sound of Pop closing up the dinner and flipping the sign to close caught them both off guard, as the two sprung apart leaving a more comfortable two feet between them.

“I-I should go,” Betty stuttered, suddenly feeling embarrassed like Pop had caught them doing something intimate as her cheeks turned rosy.

“I wish you wouldn’t”

Betty opened her mouth to reply but was beat to it as he added: “but I know you have to.”

Betty nodded, moving towards the door whipping her head back to look at Jughead one more time before she left.

“I’ll see you around, Betty Copper,” he stated, pushing his hands into his pockets.

“Is that a promise?”

“It’s a promise,” he confirmed, tilting his head down till the last remaining light on in Pop’s caught his eyes so she could see the sincerity that was held there.

“Then I’ll see you around, Jughead Jones.” She breathed, pulling open the door and letting it close softly behind her.

As soon as she left the light in Pop’s seem to dim, and then after a moment went out. As if the diner knew what her presence did, lighting up the room with her smiles that were all teeth and her laugh that made his stomach clench and swirl in a way it never had before.

Jughead Jones, the leader of the Southside Serpents, stood in the dark diner with only the neon light from the sign outside flooding in to light his features. Pop Tate, who had known Jughead since he was a baby, could see a genuine smile lighting up the boy's face. It was the kind of smile that was real, it reached his eyes and even in the dim florescent light Pop could tell there was a real kind of happiness in Jughead’s features, the kind that he had not seen in many years. The kind of happiness that a boy from the wrong side of the tracks, that just wanted someone to love him, deserved.

 

 


	2. Home Sweet Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all who commented and left kudos, because everyone seemed to like chapter one so much I have decided to continue this into a multi-chapter fic. I'm not sure where it's going but I hope you like it. This chapter is mostly about Betty, originally I was planning to put some Jughead in here but I decided that he would be more in the next chapter as I got carried away writing about Betty. I hope everyone enjoys the continuation, comments and kudos are appreciated!
> 
> Warning: There is self-harm and child abuse in this chapter.

The blonde did her best to silently close the door behind her as she entered the house, she wouldn’t use the word home, not yet and maybe not ever. The white walls and pristine furniture felt too clinical to be called a home. She guessed that from the outside it seemed like the perfect home, the perfect family composed of two beautiful blonde daughters and a loving husband and wife. Betty had to dig her nails into the already split skin of her palms to keep from breaking apart at the thought.

It was getting harder to hold the seams of her life together, she felts like it all was unweaving before her and she couldn’t grasp the edges fast enough to pull it back together. Sometimes she felt like a doll, sewn together with good intentions, but a loose thread had gotten caught along the way and it was ripping her in half. She was doing everything she could to pull herself together, to keep herself from spilling onto the floor and disappearing completely. But it was getting harder and no one was noticing.

Tonight, felt different though, there was something about the boy in the diner that made her feel whole and put together like she wasn’t falling apart at the seams. Or that even if she was, that was okay. When he looked into her eyes she felt like she knew him and that he knew her, there was no hiding or covering up how the other felt because they knew. The darkness that she was trying so hard to hide behind suffocating pastel colours and peter pan collars were as plain as day when she looked at him. He could see the darkness in her eyes, clouding the milky green pools as easily as he could see his own reflection. And she could see the goodness in him, a wide-eyed innocence and longing for love nestled in the depths of his ocean eyes. As opposite as they appeared they were more alike and more connected then anyone could see. Her faux perfection and pink persona was a mask for her darkness, that was beginning to seep from her skin and escape the cracks in her façade. His darkness, brought to life through leather jackets, motorcycle gangs, and witty retorts were encapsulating a softer and sincerer Jughead.

Somehow, in a diner in the small town of Riverdale these two people, both falling apart for their own reasons, collided. Neither was sure of what to make of the encounter, but both knew that there was something between them, a connection on a deeper level. Although neither of them thought it or wanted to use the word, it seemed like fate and maybe it was. Maybe the stars had aligned that night for them to meet, to cause a ricochet of events that would vibrate through the town to its core. Or maybe it was chance, the simple meeting of two people who seemed to be polar opposites, but were in fact alike on a soul, earth-shattering kind of level.

The soft click of her heeled boots echoed throughout the house causing the blonde to wince, she couldn’t get caught sneaking in late. She hoped that for once her overbearing mother had fallen asleep early, soothed by copious amounts of wine and the soft flames of the fireplace. But, as luck would have it, that was not the case. As Betty made her way to the staircase a light flickered on in the corner, illuminating Alice Cooper, drained wine glass in hand and a stern look present on her beautiful features. It was obvious where both Betty and Polly got their looks from, even though her mother had aged she was still beautiful. The soft blonde locks that the two sisters had originated from their maternal figure, as well as a delicate nose and pink, parted lips. In fact, neither of the girls looked much like their father.

“Look who finally decided to come home,” the voice floated in from the living room, carrying across the hardwood floors and to Betty’s ears, halting her where she stood.

The younger blonde pivoted on her heels, turning towards the voice and cautiously stepping towards it.

“I’m sorry, I know I missed curfew but I was at the diner close by I made a friend,” Betty explained, not being able to help the soft smile that tugged on her glossed lips as she spoke about Jughead.

“There’s no _I’m sorry_ , you knew you were missing curfew yet you stayed out. What kind of friends are you making that they stay out this late, that they make you miss curfew?” her mother asked, setting the wine glass down on the end table before rising to her feet. Even though it was almost midnight and Alice were in her house she wore a pair of peach heels, a modest pencil skirt, and a flowy white blouse.

“He didn’t make me-” Betty started, only to be caught off by her mother.

“He?” she growled, eyebrows raised in anger as she walked towards the teen.

Betty squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, cursing the slip-up. It was a dumb mistake, she knew it. She could do better. She could always do better.

“Answer me, Elizabeth,” Alice demanded, now standing directly in front of her.

“Yes,” Betty whispered as she opened her eyes, praying her mother would let it go.

Alice shook her head, disappointment radiating from her in waves that made Betty feel sick. The young blonde couldn’t take the disapproving glare, her fists involuntarily curling at her sides, searching for relief in the comforting pain.

“I can’t believe you,” Alice started, shaking her head as her mouth turned into a scowl “do you want to end up like your sister?”

Betty didn’t answer and instead only further dug her sky-blue nails into her palms, hoping to numb the world around her till her mother’s voice was just a hazy fuzz in the background of her life.

Alice grabbed her daughter’s arms, shaking her violently so that her classic ponytail whipped behind her and a few hairs pulled out of the simple white hair tie and frayed at the edges.

“Answer me, Elizabeth, god dammit what is wrong with you?” she shrieked, digging her nails into the pink fabric beneath her fingers.

“I don’t know!” Betty screamed, voice cracking as tears welled up in her eyes and blood dripped from her fingers.

“I don’t know,” Betty said again, whispering this time, sounding tired beyond her years as a tear finally made its way down her porcelain cheek.

Alice sighed, letting go of Betty’s thin arms and wiping the tear from her cheek “Come now, Betty” she said, her voice sickeningly sweet “Cooper’s don’t cry, we don’t want to ruin our make up.”

The message was clear to Betty, hold it in and don’t let anyone see. Image, above all else, was important. So, the teen nodded, tears seemingly evaporating as quickly as they appeared.

“Now go up to your room, you have school in the morning and you don’t want to be late,” her mother finished, turning the younger girl towards the stairs and gesturing with her other arm to make her way up them.

When Betty had finally crawled into bed that night, no tears came. Her eyes were dry as they stared up at the ceiling, searching for answers in the painted drywall. Her palms were marred with blood as her nails continued to dig into the sore and broken flesh mercilessly. But she was careful to keep the thick, red liquid from staining her sheets. After all, what would her mother think?


	3. Riverdale High

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter for you guys, this one is long to make up for the last one being so short, and don't worry there is lots of Jughead! Let me know what you guys think and if you have any ideas where the story should go next! In the next chapter, we will meet the rest of the gang.
> 
> Warning: Depictions of someone with an eating disorder

The next morning, when the sun had filtered in between the white lace of Betty’s curtains catching specks of dust that hung in the air, her alarm sounded cutting through the thick silence of the Cooper household. However, Betty Cooper was already awake. In fact, she never really fell asleep. She had only drifted into a state of semi-unconsciousness, enjoying the twilight realm between dreams and reality.

The blonde sighed softly, preparing to put on her face of perfection for the day. She tossed her floral comforter to the side, swung her legs over the edge of the bed and made her way towards her closet. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught her reflection, something she would normally try to avoid, and paused to stare at herself. The tank top she wore to bed had ridden up exposing her midsection, this sight made Betty frown. She turned to the side, lifting her shirt further and running soft fingers over the exposed flesh. Her hipbones, once subtle and delicate, now stood out harshly and threatened to break through the tight skin stretched over them. If she pulled the thin material higher, a bony ribcage would be exposed accompanied by shrinking breasts. But Betty didn’t see any of this. She only saw how her skin pinched and rolled when she bent and how her thighs pooled together when she sat down.

She hated herself. She hated how easy it was for her sister and mother to stay in shape, while it was a never-ending struggle for her.  She ate all the right things, or not at all, and exercised seven days a week. Between the early morning running and late-night sit-ups till her back bruised and her elbows ached she should be skinny. She should be beautiful. And to anyone besides herself, she was.

Looking at the pink alarm clock on her nightstand she was happy to see she had time to get in an hour run, not only for the exercise but to explore the town. Pulling on a pair of running shoes, a pink jumper, and a pair of white leggings Betty headed downstairs. The house was still quiet at this time in the morning, not a soul awake. Betty liked the house like this, there were no prying eyes or judgemental stares.

The neighbourhood they lived in was nice Betty observed, as her feet smacked against the pavement and the soft strumming of a guitar echoed in her headphones.  The houses were big, not mansions but upper-middle class sized, with manicured lawns and mature trees. The sun was fully up now, but besides it and Betty most things and people were not. She continued her jog further and further into town, not quite sure where her feet were leading her.

Jughead Jones’s morning was very different from Betty Cooper’s. His wake-up call consisted of yelling coming from the bar below him before the sun even rose. Normally, this would not wake a sleeping Jughead; he was accustomed to such noise and therefore could sleep through most things. However, this particular morning Jughead was not in the deepest of sleeps. Every time he closed his eyes a certain blonde-haired girl appeared before him, her flittering laughter and bright smiles playing on a loop. And the funny thing is, he couldn’t even be mad because he loved seeing her, if even only in his dreams. With a sigh he got up from his bed, quickly changing into a charcoal S t-shirt and yesterday’s jeans. He forged the jacket for now, but placed the beanie on his head, he was never really seen without it, even more so than the serpent leather.

“What the fuck is going on here?” Jughead questioned, making his way down the stairs and walking towards the two men exchanging blows.

When neither of the men answered Jughead grabbed the one closest to him by the collar of his jacket, yanking him back till the man stumbled almost tripping over his own feet and falling on his ass.

“I said,” Jughead repeated his voice coming out in a growl “what the fuck is going on here?”

“It’s nothing, Jones” the man closest to him replied, straightening up once he found his footing.

“Nothing, huh? Is that why you woke me up at 5:00 in the fucking morning, in my bar?”

The other two men winced, both stepping back from Jughead as a reflex.

“Sorry, won’t happen again” the farther man promised, eyes not meeting Jughead’s.

“Better not,” he grumbled moving towards a bar stool.

Somehow, despite their different mornings, both Betty and Jughead ended up at Pop’s diner at 7:15 AM. Be this another interference of fate or simply chance, neither knew.

Betty was just leaving the diner, eyes cast downwards as she fiddled with the lid of her coffee cup, when she bumped into him, literally. The scalding coffee spilled down his shirt, burning him in the process and inevitably staining the fabric.

“Fuck!” Jughead yelled, flinching backward as the hot liquid stuck to him.

“Will you watch where you’re fucking going?” he barked, flicking the excess coffee from his hand and moving to walk past.

“I-I’m sorry,” a familiar voice squeaked, causing Jughead to pause. He hadn’t realized it was the blonde in front of him, too distracted by his swirling thoughts to concentrate on much else.

“Jesus, Betty,” he started, moving to stand back in front of her and frowning at the distressed look on her face.

“I know. I’m so sorry, Jughead” she apologized, trying to use the few napkins in her hand to wipe up the coffee that had soaked into his shirt.

“That’s not what I meant,” he mumbled, softly grasping her wrist in his hand and stilling her movements.

Betty looked up at him, realizing just how close they had gotten when the top of her head skimmed his chin as she did so.

“What did you mean?” she questioned, her voice soft and breathy against the damp fabric.

“I didn’t mean to yell at you,” he explained “or scare you.” He added, frown lines on his face increasing tenfold at the thought.

“I mean, I did spill boiling coffee all over you…”

“And there’s no one I would rather have do it than you,” he replied, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

She laughed at this, a bubbly laugh that crinkled her nose and caused her ponytail to swish gently. Jughead smiled, deciding he would do whatever it takes to keep hearing that sound.

“So,” the blonde started, gazing up into his bright sky eyes “what has you out and about this beautiful morning?”

It was Jughead’s turn to laugh, albeit a much more bitter and deeper laugh than Betty’s, but a laugh all the same.

“You really are a morning person, huh?” he questioned, once the laughter had dissolved on his lips.

“And you really aren’t” she declared.

He shrugged at this, finally letting go of her wrist, but not before swiping his thumb against her pulse point making her legs feel like jelly.

“I’m sorry about your shirt,” Betty said, her eyes flicking down to the drying stain.

Jughead shrugged again, seemingly unbothered about it now, “Hey, if it got you rubbing your hands all me it was worth it” he flirted, mischief lighting up his eyes.

At this, her cheeks turned a beautiful shade of pink, something else he very much enjoyed about Betty Cooper. Before Betty could respond he had cupped her cheek, his thumb grazing against the sharp cheekbones beneath her skin and the flesh underneath his hold burned up as he did so.

“I love that,” he murmured eyes trained on her lips.

“What?” the blonde asked, a ghost of a smile playing on hers.

His mouth pulled up at the corner at this, she was so oblivious to her beauty. “When you blush, it’s kind of…well, it’s beautiful, Betty,” he breathed.

At this Betty only flushed more, wanting to look away from his intense and honest gaze but finding it difficult.

“You really think I’m beautiful?” she asked her voice thick and eyes watery.

Jughead nodded, stroking the rough pads of his thumb along the arch of her bone structure, “How could I not?”

At this, Betty threw her arms around his neck, closing the gap between the two and hugging the taller man. She pressed her chest against his, not caring that the sticky, hot fabric of his shirt was clinging to hers, now forever staining the dusty pink. Her fingers tugged lightly on a few loose curls of dark hair as she pulled him down into her, squeezing tightly. She wanted to pour all the warm, fuzzy feelings that were flooding her chest into the hug. She wanted him to feel as good as he made her feel.

If it were anyone else, Jughead would have pushed them off. But the feeling of the blonde’s arms wrapping around his neck, nimble fingers playing with the stray hairs that curled under the rim of his beanie, and her chest pressed into his was not something he wanted to push away. In fact, he found himself weaving his own, bulkier arms around her thin waist, tugging her into him and securing her there.

It was an odd sight, the biker boy who so many were afraid of, hugging the bright blonde outside of Pop’s. Yet to both of them, it was exactly right.

“I have to go to school,” Betty mumbled after a moment, breath tickling his necks and leaving goosebumps where it touched. However, neither made a move to separate, both preferring to stay in the warmth and comfort of each other's arms.

His head rested on top of hers, the stray hairs from her ponytail tickling his face. He could smell her vanilla shampoo and her natural sweet scent that he didn’t think he could ever get enough of. Jughead could feel how small she was when she was in his arms, she seemed so delicate like he could crush here if he squeezed too tightly. He knew this wasn’t the case though, he saw it last night and he saw it now, she was strong, so much stronger than anyone, including herself, gave her credit for.

“I can give you a ride to school if you like?” the taller boy offered, his voice slightly muffled against her hair as he pressed his lips ever so gently to her head.

“I have to go home and change first,” the green-eyed girl explained, ignoring the butterflies taking flight in her stomach

“I could take you home to change then bring you to school.” He was desperate to spend more time with her and if it happened to be with her arms wrapped around him on the back of his bike, so be it.

Betty swallowed, she wanted to, God did she want to. But she knew it was a bad idea, perhaps the worst idea she had yet. Her mom was mad about last night, but that would be nothing compared to the meltdown she would have if she showed up on the back of a boy’s motorcycle. She was going to have to say no, no matter how much she didn’t want to.

“That would be great, Juggie,” she said, unable to control herself. It seemed her heart had different ideas, demanding to be close to him and uttered the sentence before her brain could stop it.

She could feel the smile that graced his lips against her head when she replied.

Jughead offered her his helmet, as he never wore it anyway, straddled the bike, flicked the key, and kicked it on. The loud rumble of the engine could be felt through the pavement, Betty swore she could feel the vibrations through her shoes and up her spine.

Carefully she swung her leg over the bike, arms quickly coming to wrap around Jughead and fingers fisting in the leather of his jacket.

Jughead grinned at this, removing a bruised hand from the handlebars to grasp both her smaller hands in his and squeezing them.

“Hold on tight,” he yelled over the roar of the bike's engine. He waited to feel her nod against his back before he took off out of the parking lot.

Betty could feel the power of the bike between her legs as the wind whipped around them and she clung to him in both fear and excitement.  She couldn’t help the giggle that erupted from her lips and the smile that stretched across them. She had never felt this free in her life, with her arms snaked around a Serpent’s waist and cruising down the empty streets of Riverdale. If she could see Jughead’s face she would see a matching, carefree smile and a glimmer of something that could only be described as pure joy in his eyes.

When the bike pulled into the Cooper’s driveway the anxiety came flooding back and she couldn’t help but cling to Jughead tighter. This did not go unnoticed by the boy as he flicked the bike off and rested his feet on the pavement to keep the machine steady.

“What’s wrong, Betty?”

Betty’s eyes widened in surprise at this, he wasn’t even looking at her but he could tell something was wrong. He had known her for two days and knew something was off with the blonde. Her family and friends back home, who had known her all her life, had no idea, but Jughead knew just from the way her fingers dug into the fabric of his jacket and she tensed behind him.

“Things are just…” Betty started, searching for the right word “tense at home.” She finished lamely.

“Do you want me to come in with you?” Jughead offered, hand once again coming to rest on top of hers and trace the bony arches of her knuckles.

“No, that probably isn’t a good idea,” Betty admitted, trying to ignore the tingles on her skin from where he touched.

Jughead nodded understandingly, but still wanting to comfort the blonde he brought her hands up to his lips, kissing the soft skin with bruised lips gently.

“I’ll be here,” he promised, before squeezing them one last time as Betty got off the bike.

Betty stood, head tilted down slightly to hide her blush as she struggled to unbuckle the helmet.

Jughead laughed at this, not his usual hard laugh, but a soft laugh that warmed Betty’s heart. 

“Come here,” he said, snaking his arm around her waist and tugging her close, till her thighs were pressed against him. His long fingers made quick work of the buckle and easily undid the strap and removed her helmet.

“Thanks, Jug,” she said softly, before running into the house.

“Mom?” Betty called, listening for the classic sound of heels against hardwood that her mother always made. When she heard nothing, she let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. Her mother must have gone to work early, getting the new office set up for the newspaper.

Jughead sat outside Betty’s house, feeling out of place in the Northside suburbs without her by his side. The pristine houses, so much larger than anything Jughead had ever lived in, and impossibly green lawns made his skin crawl. It all seemed too artificial.

“Look’s pretty fake, huh?” the blonde’s soft voice came, cutting through his thoughts.

“You read my mind, Betty,” Jughead said, turning to the teen.

Betty wore a pink denim skirt adorned with silver buttons up the middle with a long sleeve grey sweater tucked into it. The sweater was topped off with a white lace peter pan collar that made Jughead feel all sorts of things he never thought he would feel for a girl so covered up.

“Um,” Jughead started, clearing his throat and adjusting his beanie “do you think a skirt will be okay on the bike?” he finally said, eyes trailing down her long pale legs before shooting back up to meet her green orbs.

“I’m sure it will be fine,” Betty stated, flipping her hand nonchalantly before walking back towards the bike and pulling the helmet on “Besides,” she said, fastening the buckle of the helmet “I worked really hard to fit into this.”

Jughead frowned, bringing his hand up to rest on the curve of her hip “You’re beautiful, whether you fit into this skirt or not” he said, eyes locked with hers.

Betty, uncomfortable under his eyes looked away; she felt naked behind his gaze like he knew all her secrets just by looking at her.

After a moment she recovered, thanking Jughead before climbing back onto the bike. Her arms, seemingly of their own accord, wrapped around his waist coming to rest against his belt buckle.

“You better watch your hands there Betts, don’t want me to crash,” he teased testing out the nickname on his tongue.

She smiled wide against the leather of his jacket, something she seemed to do a lot of when in the company of the Jones boy, “Well, I guess I’ll move them then,” she sighed dramatically, shifting her hands to rest on his navel instead “But only so we don’t crash,” she whispered into his ear, enjoying the sight of goosebumps appearing on his skin as she did so.

“Jesus, Betty,” he muttered, for the second time that day.

The sound of the bike could be heard from a block away as it approached the Riverdale high school, alerting the study body of a Southside Serpent’s presence in the Northside. The bike, with none other than the leader of said Serpents driving it, pulled up to the front doors of the school. The students, especially the girls, were curious what he was doing there. Young girls giggled looking at the leather-clad figure, intrigued by his mysterious aura and bad boy reputation. However, young boys of the school were wondering why Southside trash was dirtying up their school.

Betty pulled her helmet off once the bike stopped, ignoring the stares from her fellow students, and climbed off the bike.

“Thanks for the ride, Jug,” she said, her voice soft and smile wide.

“For you,” Jughead replied, taking the helmet from her hands and hanging it off the handle of his bike “anytime.”

This, in turn, made Betty smile wider and somehow find the courage to lean forward and place a kiss on his cheek. The skin she touched was marked with the faintest trace of pink gloss, but also a deeper more natural pink flush that blossomed there when she pulled back.

Gasps could be heard and stares felt but they ignored them. They were completely focused on one another, shutting out the world around them till all was blurry and faded besides the two in the middle of it all.

“You have yourself a good day, Betts,” Jughead said, finally finding his voice.

“You too, Juggie” she replied, enjoying the exchange of nicknames.  

With a small wave goodbye Betty began walking towards the front doors of the school, it felt like she was floating as she basked in the afterglow of Jughead’s presence.

“Hey, Betty,” Jughead called, voice booming across the campus.

The blonde turned towards the dark-haired boy, a vibrant smile on her face and a brow raised in question.

“I’ll pick you up after school,” he stated, and without waiting for a reply restarted his bike and took off back down the winding road.

Betty made her way back towards the school doors, already anxious for the school day to be over as she made her way inside. Students were sending odd looks her way, some glares, others shock or evny and she wasn’t sure why. But it didn’t matter, she was on cloud nine and not a single thing could ruin her day at this moment.

 _This is going to be a good first day_ , Betty thought as she made her way down the brightly lit halls of Riverdale High.


	4. B and V

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, sorry for the delay in getting this chapter up; I'm back in school now so the updates won't be as frequent but I'll try to post as often as I can. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter as we see a few more familiar faces of Riverdale.

Veronica stood outside Principal Weatherbee’s office, glossy iPhone in the clutches of her manicured fingers. She and best friend Kevin Keller were in charge of showing the new student around. They weren’t provided with much information, just a name: Betty Cooper and a schedule. There was a small photo, Veronica guessed from her old school by the modest uniform she wore in it, clipped to the edge of the paper. However, in a town such as Riverdale, this was unnecessary, a new face wouldn’t go unnoticed, especially by Veronica.

The girl in the photo, Betty, was pretty, but in a very different way than Veronica. Veronica was all rounded curves and buttery skin. She was known for her smouldering chocolate eyes and dark tresses, that not a boy, or girl for that matter, in Riverdale, could resist. Betty, however, was a softer, gentle type of beauty. Her eyes, big and lined with thick lashes, had a doe like quality to them that was the epitome of innocence.  She was all pastel pink lips and porcelain skin and if Veronica believed in stereotyping she would classify Betty as a total girl next door. If the two girls were to stand side by side they would seem like polar opposites, where Veronica’s hair was flowy and dark Betty’s was fair and pulled back tightly. Where Veronica’s makeup was bold, with dark hues and arched brows, Betty’s was more natural with light lavender and muted yellows. The list of differences in the two girls could go on forever, yet, much like Jughead and Betty, the two had more in common than first believed.

At this specific moment, Veronica was preoccupied with mass texting Kevin. They were supposed to meet at the office five minutes ago and there was still no sign or word from her sassy friend. When she finally spotted his head of brown hair, hurrying through a group of freshmen, and his classic messenger bag slung over his shoulder, her foot, which was clad in her classic black Louis Vuitton heels, was tapping impatiently against the tile.

“Veronica!” Kevin gasped, skidding to a halt in front of the raven-haired beauty.

“Kevin,” she replied, a slight edge in her voice as she crossed her arms over her chest.

“No, V, you won’t believe what happened,” Kevin exclaimed, almost vibrating out of his skin with excitement.

This caught the other teens attention, causing her to refrain from launching into a speech about timeliness and raise a perfectly plucked brown in question and silent permission for him to go on.

Kevin took a deep breath to calm himself before divulging, in great and dramatic detail:

“So, I was walking into the school, on time for the record, and a motorcycle pulls up right beside me and you’ll never guess who was on it!”

Veronica tilted her head slightly and quirked her brow, silently asking “who?”.

“Jughead Jones!” Kevin all but yelled in the busy hallway.

Veronica’s eyes widen in surprise at this, something she didn’t do often. There wasn’t much that could surprise a Lodge.

“Okay, I admit that’s juicy,” the dark-eyed girl confessed, uncrossing her arms in surrender “But,” she continued with a pointed look towards her sweater wearing BFF “he is in the Southside Serpent’s and he does live here so it’s not that outrageous.”

Kevin grinned at this like he knew that would be her response and excitement filled his eyes as he shifted back and forth between his feet like all the excitement had rushed to his limbs and he couldn’t stay still.

“That’s not the most scandalous part,” he paused, just long enough for dramatic effect “the new girl was on the back of his bike, and she kissed him!”

At this, Veronica Lodge’s mouth fell open, something that in all their years of friendship Kevin had never seen her do. However, she was a Lodge, so after the briefest of moments she had composed herself, back to the normal, but fabulous Veronica.

“She just got here and she’s hooking up with a snake?” Veronica pondered out loud.

“Oh, I think it’s more than hooking up. They looked...” Kevin sighed, a twinge of sadness in the otherwise happy gesture “infatuated. And besides, he called after her, in front of everyone, and said he would pick her up when school was over. Seemed like he was claiming her in front of all the jocks to me, which is totally hot.” He finished, dramatically pulling on the edge of his collar to let some of the heat out.

Before Veronica could comment or Kevin could ramble about how devastatingly handsome Jughead is in the “Holden Caulfield meets Jax Teller” kind of way Betty herself had entered their hallway, making her way towards the office with her head held high and a giddy smile plastered on her pink lips.

“Betty Cooper!” Veronica called, merlot lips stretching into an enticing smile.

“That’s me,” Betty said cheerily, smoothing her ponytail down.

“We’re you’re welcoming committee, here to show you the ins and outs of Riverdale,” Veronica explained.

“Oh! Veronica and-”

“Kevin,” the taller boy interjected, “and let me just say I want to hear everything about Jughead Jones.”

Veronica nudged her friend at this giving him a sideways look before turning back to Betty, she too wanted answers.

“You guys know Juggie?” Betty asked smiling wider, any friends of Jug were friends of hers.

“Oh no!” Veronica said, far too quickly.

“She just means we know him but we aren’t friends with him. How do you know, _Juggie_?” Kevin asked, a slight twinge of humour in his voice as he covered for his sometimes big mouthed bestie.

“We met at this little retro diner.”

“Pop’s,” the two Riverdale natives said in unison.

“That’s it!” the blonde cheered.

“And?” Kevin asked, leaning forward slightly, as to not miss a word.

“And we’re friends,” Betty finished, trying to keep the blood from rushing to her face.

“Just friends?” Veronica asked, noticing the gleam in the blonde’s eyes and the scarlet trailing up her neck.

At this Betty only shrugged shyly, smoothing her ponytail once again and moving her eyes to the paper in Veronica’s hand to avoid their stares.

“Is that my schedule?” Betty asked, desperate to change the subject.

“It sure is,” Veronica said, handing it to her as she spoke “you have at least one us in all of your classes, so you don’t have to worry about being alone. And we can sit together at lunch.”

“That would be really nice, I’ve never been to a new school before” Betty confessed, twirling a loose thread of her sweater around her index finger.

“You have nothing to worry about, B” Veronica reassured, linking her arm in Betty’s.

When lunchtime rolled around, the three had become fast friends. Betty was now familiar with the basics of Riverdale High and where her classes were, but she was still nervous for lunch. Dread, anxiety, and nervousness were whirling in her stomach making the petite blonde feel sick. Between the thought of eating and meeting even more people, Betty was overwhelmed. On the way to the cafeteria, flanked by Kevin, she sunk her nails into the skin of her palm for a moment, searching for relief. As the sharp edges of her nails threatened to break through the skin she pictured Jughead, floppy hair falling in his eyes and a laugh lightening up his handsome features. Suddenly, the pressure of her palms lessened, as she let her fingers uncurl; she promised herself nothing would ruin her day today and she meant it. 

Kevin, unbeknownst to Betty, was not oblivious to the change in the peppy blonde. From the corner of his eyes, he saw the way her fingers curled in on themselves, turning into fists. And although he didn’t know everything, he knew something was wrong.

“Excited to see your boy after school?” Kevin asked as they walked into the busy cafeteria, hoping to distract her.

“He’s not my boy,” Betty chided, ignoring the way her heart sped up at the thought of Jughead being hers.

“Honey,” Kevin started, pausing his movements to instill the seriousness in his words “he’s more yours than anyone else’s”

This time Betty couldn’t control the soring of her heart or the butterflies released in her stomach, and she’s not quite sure she would want to anyway.

The pair walked towards a lunch table in the center of the cafeteria and when Veronica spotted the blonde and her quirky best friend she quickly stood and raced over to them, once again linking arms with the fair-haired girl.

“Everyone this is Betty Cooper, a damn angel and the newest addition to our group,” Veronica introduced, pulling the blonde down to sit beside her.

A red-headed boy with broad shoulders and puppy dog brown eyes smiled at her, “I’m Archie, Veronica’s boyfriend. It’s nice to meet you.”

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” Betty confessed, tilting her head towards Veronica “she never stops talking about you.”

Archie grinned “Is that so, Ronnie?”

“Shut up,” Veronica sassed, playfully rolling her eyes.

“How long have you guys been together?” Betty asked, admiring the smitten couple.

“13 months,” the two replied in unison before flickering their eyes to one another in loving appreciation.

Betty wanted that, the kind of synchronization and pure love that came from a true and genuine connection. Betty imagines it would feel like an invisible thread tied between the pair and stringing them together in an unbreakable bond. And for a moment she pictured Jughead as her person, the one who truly understands her even when she doesn’t understand herself. She knows it’s silly, they just met, but there’s a nagging in her gut and a tug on the invisible string wrapped around her heart every time she sees him that makes her think they’re meant to be together. It’s unclear whether this is fate or chance, but Betty knows it’s something because she’s never felt like this before and she suspects, hopes, Jughead hasn’t either.

“Hello? Earth to Betty,” Kevin laughs, waving his hand in front of the dazed blonde.

“What? Sorry I spaced out,” she admits, blood rising to her cheeks as she does so.

“Thinking about your boy?” Kevin asks, smirking confidently like he could read her mind.

Betty doesn’t reply, waving off the two and hoping the conversation will continue. She isn’t so lucky.

“Well,” Veronica inquires, plum polished nails coming to rest on her chin in question “are you?”

Archie, slightly bored of the conversation once it had turned to boys, was leaning to the next table over talking to Reggie Mantle, a fellow football player, and friend. The name “Jughead” uttered in a soft feminine voice from his table, however, drew him from his conversation about the next game to the new blonde addition to the table.

“Did you just say Jughead? As in Jughead Jones?” Archie demanded, hoping he had heard wrong.

“Yes…” Betty said, brows pinching together in confusion.

“Don’t associate yourself with him, Betty, he’s dangerous. A nice girl like you doesn’t belong in the den of the Serpent’s.” Archie whispered, keeping his voice low but serious, his gaze refusing to waver.

“The Serpent’s?” Betty asked, tilting her head to the side making her resemble a puppy. This only further propelled Archie’s instinct to protect the innocent girl.

“The Southside Serpent’s,” Archie clarified, leaning forward on the elbows of his letterman jacket “they’re a gang from the southside of town that deals in drugs, theft, and murder.”

“And Jughead?” Betty gulped, afraid of the ginger boys reply.

“He’s their leader.”

Betty wanted to laugh at the thought, yes Jughead was aloof, broody, and maybe even a little bit of a bad boy, but murder? The Jughead she knows would never hurt someone, not someone who didn’t deserve it anyway. The way Archie portrayed her raven-haired friend made him seem sinister and when she looked into the deep blue of Jughead’s eyes she saw nothing of the sort.

There was a softness to Jughead Jones, a quiet type of artistry that loved writing and classic films that she’s now beginning to think no one else sees.

“He wouldn’t” Betty argued, a fiery protectiveness alighting in her gut to defend Jughead.

“You don’t really know him, Betty, you just got here,” Archie explains, voice gentle like he was telling a kid Santa Clause wasn’t real.

“I do know him,” Betty says, eyes set in hard determination. “maybe you’re the one who doesn’t know him.” she finished, rather rudely for the likes of a Cooper, and stands.

“Betty, wait,” Veronica says, reaching out to her.

But Betty was already standing and out of arms reach, “I think I’m going to walk around the school some more, get familiar with my new surroundings. Thanks for showing me around and letting me sit with you guys.” And with that, the miffed blonde spun on her heel and made her way out of the cafeteria.

Back at the table, where the three teens remained, Veronica was glaring at Archie a scowl on her matte lips offsetting her otherwise flawless features.

“What?” Archie asked, shrugging his shoulders innocently and putting his hands up in a sign of surrender to the Lodge girl.

“You’re an idiot,” She exclaims, shaking her head at her clueless boyfriend.

“I was just telling her the truth,” He reasons to his agitated girlfriend.

“Have you ever met Jughead?” Kevin asks, already knowing what the jock’s answer will be.

“Well, no,” he confesses, hand coming up to sheepishly rub the back of his neck “but, I mean, people talk.”

“Everyone talks in this town, it doesn’t mean shit,” Kevin bites back, standing from their lunch table and slinging his bag over his shoulder. “I’m going to find Betty, see you guys in chem.”

And with that, Kevin leaves out the same set of double doors Betty had a few moments ago in search of her iconic blonde ponytail.

Betty, unsurprisingly, was already lost. Somehow, she had taken a wrong turn and ended up in an unfamiliar hallway of the school, this did not deter her façade of knowing exactly where she was. _Besides_ , the blonde reasoned to herself arms coming to wrap around her own thin frame, _eventually, she would find her way back to a familiar corridor._

A figure, dark and tall stood out of Betty’s vision, hidden by the shadows as he watched her walk. He admired her exposed flesh, eyes zeroing in on her long legs and lean figure as she passed him. At this moment, he decided he would have her, one way or another. And he didn’t give a damn what her Serpent boyfriend thought.

Emerging from the shadows slowly he came up behind her, his body easily double her size and a good foot taller loomed over her, waiting for the right moment. He put on a friendly face as he called across the seemingly deserted hallway, “You lost?”

Betty jumped at the sound, spinning on the spot to come face to face with a built boy in a letterman jacket.

“Oh my god,” she expressed, hand coming up to lay on the left side of her chest “you scared me!”

“I’m sorry,” the brown-haired boy apologized, false sincerity expressed on his chiseled features “I just saw a new face who seemed a little confused and figured you might be lost.”

 “Well, you’re right. I have no idea where I am,” she professed a friendly smile on her face.

“Luckily, I can help you with that,”

“Thank you, I’m Betty, by the way, Betty Cooper.” She said, extending her hand towards the football player.

“It’s a pleasure,” he leered, taking her hand in his and bringing it up to his lips “I’m Chuck, Chuck Clayton.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your comments and kudos are appreciated and loved, and I take the time to read and reply to all comments as they mean the world to me. It's great to see people enjoying my work. I hope everyone is liking where this story is going as I feel like the first chapter was my best one because it was originally supposed to be a one (or two) shot. Let me know what you guys think.


	5. Chuck VS Betty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, everyone, I hope you like this chapter there is a little bit of drama going on. I'm hoping to update two times a week now that school has started. I'm also trying to figure out how long the story will be, I'm thinking about 15 chapters right now.

Kevin walked down the narrowing hallways, searching for any sign of his new pink skirted friend. Suddenly, he saw a flash of a blonde ponytail whip around the corner, catching his eyes.

“Betty!” He called, quickening his pace to catch her.

Around the other side of the corner, Betty paused, looking up at Chuck “Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?” The jock asked, eyes flickering behind them and his hand coming to rest against her lower back in an attempt to hurry her.

“It sounded like someone called my name,” Betty answers, trying to turn and look behind her but was stopped by Chuck’s firm hand on her back.

“I didn’t hear anything, come on,” Chuck lied, his voice firm and causing goosebumps to blossom on her skin in the worst way.

“Betty!” Kevin called again, skidding around the corner and coming up to the pair.

“Kevin?” Betty replied, finally managing to turn around in Chuck’s hold. “What are you-” the blonde begins to ask before Kevin cuts her off: “Get away from him, Betty!” He exclaims, reaching towards the petite girl and tugging her to him gently.

Betty stumbles slightly, feeling like a rag doll tugged between the two boys as she lurchers towards the sweater-wearing boy only to be pulled back towards Chuck.

“I’m showing her around, Keller. It’s not really any of your business,” Chuck retorts, voice icy and grip tightening on Betty’s arm.

“Um, Chuck,” Betty starts, trying to alert the stormy-eyed football player to her pain, twisting in his hold and bringing her eyebrows together in discomfort.

Chuck, however, had never paid much attention to what pretty girls say, his mind being on other, more vulgar things and he wasn’t going to start now.

Kevin’s nostrils flared, eyes zooming in on the jocks tightening grip “Hands off her Chuck,” he demands, voice steady and strong. At this very moment, Kevin felt himself wishing Archie had followed him out of the cafeteria. But that didn’t mean the much less bulky brunette would let the trash that was Chuck Clayton hurt Betty.

“Or what?” Chuck taunts, a cocky grin on his lips.

Kevin flicks his eyes towards Betty, noticing the twinge of pain on her face and the downward curl of her lips and decides if he has to fight the six-pack jock who easily has fifty pounds on him, so be it.

During their heated exchange, Betty was growing increasingly angry, she was sick of people pushing her around. Her hands were curled and shaking at her sides, this time in anger.

“Or I’ll-” Kevin begins, only to be shocked into silence by Betty.

The elbow of her other arm came up and smashed into his smug face, successfully sending him backward and releasing his hold on her. She wasn’t sure if she inflicted that much damage or if it was more shock that had him recoiling, hands coming up to cradle his nose.

“You bitch,” Chuck shrieks, eyes darkening.

“Maybe that will teach you not to grab women, you pig,” Betty sneers, eyes narrowing, before bringing up her foot to slam into his knee.

This time, Betty knows when he’s on the ground moaning in pain, it has nothing to do with shock.

“Let’s go, Kevin,” Betty says, voice upbeat and sweet compared to the snarl moments ago, as she hooks her arm in his.

“You’re amazing,” Kevin breathes, eyes wide and mouth agape.

“Thanks for trying to save me,” Betty whispers, voice earnest and soft as she looks up at Kevin while they walk.

“I think you’re the one who saved me back there, he would have kicked my ass,” Kevin confesses, laughing wholeheartedly.

“I mean it, Kev,” Betty expresses, letting the nickname roll off her tongue without thought.

“Me too,” Kevin replies, squeezing her arm reassuringly.

 

Jughead sat on a rickety stool in the White Wyrm, chin resting in his palm and fingers drumming against the sturdy wood beneath them. He should be out on a run, or at the very least dealing with the mass amount of paperwork that comes with owning a bar, instead, he found himself nursing a bourbon and checking the clock every 10 minutes. He didn’t mean to be this distracted, he shouldn’t be this distracted, but he was. He sighed, swigging back the remaining bit of bourbon in his glass and then motioning for another.

“Rough day?” the pink haired bartender asked, swiping a bottle of Jim Beam off the shelf and refilling his glass.

Jughead laughs, it was more of a huff of amusement portrayed through a puff of air leaving his nose and a wry smile, but a show of amusement all the same.

“The exact opposite, actually,” He musses, holding the glass in his hand and swiping his thumb across the Serpent logo on the tumbler.

“Oh?” the bartender asks, moving to wipe down the counter but deciding against it after looking at the dirty, hole-ridden cloth.

“I met a girl,” Jughead says, wry smile melting away into a soft one.

“Well, well, well,” Toni starts, noticing the way Jughead’s face softens.

“Don’t start,” Jughead warns, with no real threat behind his words.

“Come on,” Toni said, hopping up on the bar and looking down at the beanie-wearing serpent. “I want to hear all about this girl.”

Jughead, never one to share how he feels, would often make an exception for his lifelong friend Toni Topaz. Although she can be overbearing, obnoxious, and god damn annoying she was also understanding, supportive, and often got Jughead to pull his head out of his ass when he needed it, which was more often than most people think.

“Her name is Betty, she’s new in town and we met at Pop’s. She has this blonde hair that she always pulls up into a ponytail but I’m dying to run my fingers through it and God, Toni, her eyes are so green that I could stare into them all day. And her skin? It’s so-”

“Jesus, Jones,” Toni says, letting out a low whistle and shaking her head. “You’re already whipped. I haven’t heard you ramble like this since we were kids.”

“Shut up,” the Serpent man grumbles, trying to prevent the flush from creeping up his neck.

“I want to meet her,” Toni declares, swinging her fishnet-clad legs freely “hell, I want to meet anyone who can turn the great Jughead Jones into a lovesick, blushing fool.”

Jughead doesn’t say anything for a minute, instead just glares at the pink haired Serpent and takes a long pull from his drink.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, I mean she doesn’t know about the Serpents…” Jughead trails off, ready for Toni to go off on him, in the way that he only let his lifelong friends do.

Toni, however, surprising the tattooed man, just rolled her eyes and gave Jughead a knowing look.

“She’ll find out, you know?” Toni cautions, sliding off the bar and grabbing the drink from Jughead’s hand and swallowing it all in one gulp.

“She doesn’t have to find out yet,” Jughead says pointedly, his gaze locking with hers in warning.

“But she will eventually,” Toni reasoned knowingly.

Jughead knew she was right, she often was. But, like many regretful times before, he didn’t listen to her advice.

“When I want her to know, I’ll tell her,” the Serpent leader states, his voice taking on the familiar hard tone that Toni was all too familiar with.

The bartender sighed, wrapping a pink curl around her finger, knowing that there is no point in arguing with Jughead when he gets like this.

“Alright, Jughead,” She concedes, arms up in mock surrender.

Jughead just grumbles in reply, his brooding exterior becoming even more prominent as he pushes a few stray curls under the rim of his beanie. He flicks his glacier eyes towards the clock, forgetting during the conversation with Toni to stare at the time and is pleasantly surprised when it reads: 2:45.

He hops out of the stool, jostling the seat on its legs so hard that it threatens to fall over as he yells “I gotta go, see you around!”

Toni goes to ask him what has got him so excited, but he’s out the door with a flash before she can say a word.

 

When three o’clock finally rolls around Betty jumps out of her seat, quickly deposits her books into her bag, bids her new friend Kevin goodbye, and makes her way towards the front doors; her heart already racing in anticipation.

Jughead was leaning against his bike, arms crossed over his chest and legs stretched out in front of him with his ankles locked together. His beanie was perched on his head, tilted slightly to the side with a loose curl resting against his forehead that highlighted his deep ocean eyes.

Betty stood, frozen in her spot as her eyes widened at the sight of Jughead, she had never seen anything so beautiful. The blonde knew it was a weird way to describe the leather biker boy in front of her but that’s what he was: beautiful.

His eyes were impossibly blue, with flecks of grey and green that only sparkled when the sun hit them. His hair which was jet black and so god damn soft often housed his hands which found their way into the mass of curls, twisting and playing with loose strands. His smile, which Betty was sure he didn’t often show, always seemed to reach his eyes and showcase his perfect white teeth. And every time she saw the radiant grin on his face she felt special, just knowing he would show her this part of himself.

To Betty Cooper, this was beautiful.

“Enjoying the view?” Jughead questions, quirking his eyebrow cockily as his mouth pulls up in the corner.

“I most certainly am,” Betty giggles, coming to stand next to Jughead.

Jughead laughs, a sound Betty is beginning to love, and smiles down at the blonde.

“How was your first day of school?” the blue-eyed man asks, his voice husky with a hint of humour peppering his tone.

“I’ve had better,” Betty admits “but, I made some friends so it’s a good start.”

“What happened?” the Serpent asks, ignoring the other students and focusing on the girl in front of him, his eyes flashing with concern.

“Just this…thing,” Betty dismisses, flipping her hand in the air as to get rid of the words hanging there.

“What thing?” Jughead pushes his voice low in a different way than before.

“Don’t worry about it,” Betty says, slipping her hand into his and giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“You can’t distract me with your cute face and impossibly soft hands,”’ Jughead says, voice changing to match the softness reflected in his eyes.

“Are you suuuuure?” Betty drawls, her doe eyes batting up at him.

Jughead hesitates for a moment before replying: “I’m sure.”

Betty sighs and makes a move to remove her hand from his, but is instead pulled gently against his side.

“Don’t pull away from me, Betts,” He murmurs, his free hand coming up to tuck a stray blonde hair, that somehow managed to escape her tight ponytail, behind her ear.

Betty looks back at him, melting into his touch and getting lost in his eyes. Being this close to Jughead, physically and emotionally, allows her to see the specks of colours in her eyes that she loved so much and the vulnerability and softness, she suspects, he only let her see.

“This…thing happened with Chuck Clayton,” the ponytailed blonde explained. At the mention of his name, Jughead’s eyes darkened, masking any traces of colour besides the deep blue.

“What did he do?” Jughead growls, shoulders tensing under his jacket.

“He was hitting on me, or I guess what he thinks is hitting on someone, and he got kind of grabby and-”

“He what?!” The Serpent yells, standing up from his lounging post against the bike.

“Calm down,” Betty soothes, squeezing his hand again and resting her other hand on his arm comfortingly.

“Calm down?” Jughead exclaims, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. “I’m not going to calm down when his hands were all over you.”

“I took care of it,” Betty reassures, rubbing her hand absently against the cool leather of his arm.

“Well, I’m going to double take care of it. No one puts their hands on you, Betts,” Jughead fumed, hands clenching at his sides.

Betty smiled slightly, despite the situation and the darkness clouding his eyes, his protectiveness was sweet and made her heart swell.

“You’re sweet, Jug,” Betty begins, voice soft as it floats into Jughead’s ears “But I don’t need you to protect me.”

“I know you don’t need me to protect you, I want to,” Jughead explains, untangling their fingers and moving towards the group of football players.

“Jug, wait,” Betty calls, tugging on his hand, begging him to turn around.

Jughead ignores her pleas, pulls out of her hold, and begins stalking towards the group of teens.

“I know you’re in a gang,” Betty says, voice shaky and desperate to make him stop.

Only then does Jughead finally stop in his tracks, frozen by Betty's words. His hand comes up to rub the back of his neck as his eyes close in pain.

Toni was right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It would mean the world if you left a comment and kudos. I see and love those who leave a comment on every chapter! In the next chapter, we will have lots of Bughead so stay tuned.


	6. Black Coffee and Vanilla Cupcakes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, everyone, thank you all so much for the overwhelming positive response I got from the last chapter. There's lots of Bughead in this chapter that I hope everyone loves! A familiar face from Riverdale also shows up in this chapter that we haven't seen yet!

Jughead could picture the look on her face without having to turn around; her eyebrows would be pulled down in the middle creating a crease between her sad, green eyes that he was sure would be filled with tears and disappointment and her mouth would be pulled into a pouting frown. She would be afraid of him, disgusted even, and now that she saw the trash he really was she would want nothing to do with him.

With a resounding sigh and a pinch of the bridge of his nose, Jughead opened his eyes and swiveled on his heel to face Betty. He couldn’t take her turning him away, so he’d do it first.

“Yeah, I am,” he replied coolly, his voice taking on a hardened edge that Betty had never heard before.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Betty asks, looking up at him with questioning eyes, that to Jughead’s surprise were tearless.

Jughead avoided gaze, he knew if he didn’t he couldn’t do this.

“Because,” Jughead falters for a moment, catching her stare and feeling his heart clench in response “because you didn’t need to know.” He finishes, eyes darting to avoid hers and his teeth coming down to bite his lip. He knew he was upsetting her and he hated it.

“But, Jug,” Betty starts, reaching towards the brooding boy ready to accept every part of him.

“No, Betty,” Jughead states, voice firm as he steps back from her touch.

Betty’s hand hangs in the air for a moment before dropping to her side, fingers curling inwards on their own accord. She doesn’t say anything for a moment, just lets her eyes fill with water till the clear green becomes murky.

“You’re a real jerk Jughead,” Betty snaps, her voice taut but eyes portraying the hurt she felt.

“I know, which is why you should stay away from me,” Jughead insists, betraying every thought and feeling he had.

“Don’t do this,” Betty pleads, her words cracking on every syllable as a tear slides down her cheek.

“This is what people in gangs do, Betty,” the Serpent replies “they hurt people.” And with that Jughead made his way over to the Bulldogs, leaving behind a teary-eyed Betty who only wanted to love him.

“Hey!” Jughead calls, masking his pain behind a cocky grin and confident swagger “Which one of you fuck boys is Chuck Clayton?”

One of the tallest boys in the middle of the crowd, wearing the same blue and gold letterman jacket as the rest of them, jerked his head up towards the Serpent.

“That’s me, what do you want, snake?” Chuck sneers, walking towards him as his football friends flank his sides.

“Heard you like to put your hands all over teenage girls,” Jughead retorts, squaring his shoulders and narrowing his eyes at the jock.

“Well, when they got a tight ass like Betty-” Chuck begins, only to be cut off by Jughead swinging his fist into Chuck’s face, successfully wiping the smirk off of it.

Chuck’s head snapped to the side, the sound of flesh hitting flesh cutting through the crowd and silencing the students.

The younger boy’s eyes darkened as he slowly turned back towards the Serpent, a small trickle of blood escaping his nose.

“That was a dumb move,” Chuck hisses, using the back of his hand to wipe the blood from his nostrils.

“Us Bulldogs eat snakes for breakfast,” threatens a brunette football player to Chuck’s right if Jughead spared more than a glance to him he might have recognized him as Reggie Mantle.

Jughead barks out a laugh, a bitter harsh laugh that instills a certain kind of fear in the surrounding students, and swiftly lunges forward slamming his fist into Chuck’s face repeatedly. The jock stumbles backward, shocked by the outburst, and steadies himself by holding onto the leather lapels of Jughead’s jacket before kneeing him in the gut. The leather wearing boy keels over, his arm coming to wrap around his midsection as he struggles to breathe for a moment. One of the other football players takes the opportunity to swing at the older man, slamming into the high arch of his cheekbone at a crushing speed. A splatter of blood leaves his mouth, spraying across the pavement like some sick sort of paint that colours the cement and splashes against the white sneakers of nearby students.

Jughead Jones was never one to give up, he’s not sure if it’s a Serpent thing or a Jones thing but either way, he was a stubborn bastard. This is why, despite the four football players surrounding him he stood, and began to fight his way through the mass of muscle and letterman jackets that surrounded him.

The next few minutes consisted of bruised knuckles slamming against flesh, the groans of pain and muttered curse words from young boys, and the angered gaze of the Serpent’s leader being unleashed – which if you were smart you wouldn’t cross. But, Riverdale’s football team was never known for being smart.

“Enough!” comes a strong feminine voice, breaking through the crowd.

The boys halted for a moment, recognizing the pitch of her voice and the sound of heels clicking not far behind.

“You’ve proven your point,” Veronica says, looking down at the blood riddled boys and stained cement.

“He started it,” Reggie begins, his voice taking on a whiny, nasal quality that only causes Veronica to purse her lips distastefully.

“I’m fairly certain Chuck is the one that started it, _Reginald_. And four against one?” The chocolate haired girl asks, turning her nose up at them in disgust.

Chuck looks ready to fight back, eyes ablaze, as he stalks towards Veronica only to be stopped by a firm hand on his chest.

“She said enough,” Archie warns, red hair falling into russet eyes as he glares down his teammate.

“Whatever,” Chuck utters after a moment, backing away from the pair and throwing his hands up in mock surrender. “He’s not worth our time anyway.”

Jughead watched as the remaining members of the fight got into their cars and left, his fists clenched at his sides. He didn’t let his guard down till he felt a soft hand over his and the familiar sweet smell that was Betty Cooper enveloped his senses.

“God, look at you, Jug,” Betty gasps, thumb brushing against his split and bloodied knuckles.

“It’s just a little blood,” he responds, spitting out more of the red liquid that lines his mouth onto the pavement.

“A little?!” Betty says, voice rising to show Jughead just how ridiculous his claim was.

“You should see the other guys,” Jughead retorts, a bloody grin stretching across his face.

“They look about as good as you right now.”

“Okay, for one,” Jughead begins, wiping the blood from his lips with the sleeve of his jacket “I’m way hotter than any of those meatheads, even on my worst day.”

Betty laughs at this, she loved that no matter the situation Jughead was playful and could always bring a smile to her face.

“And secondly?” she requests, silently agreeing with his first point.

“If it’s four against one and they look the same as me, I won.”

“Of course you did, you’re a bad ass _Southside Serpent_ ” she quips, humour lighting up her eyes and accenting her tone.

However, Jughead’s eyes only seemed to darken at this, like he was being pulled back down to reality with a simple phrase.

“Yeah, I am,” Jughead grumbles and turns to leave and make his way towards his bike, knowing that whatever was between them is now over.

“Hey,” Betty calls, reaching for his hand an entwining their fingers “Don’t pull away from me, Jug,” she finishes, echoing back his own words to him.

Jughead sighs and uses his free hand to tug his beanie further onto his head, which miraculously had stayed on during the fight. He wanted to pull away from her touch, to tell her to go home and forget that they ever met. But he couldn’t do that to her, to him, he was already too far gone. He was submerged in all that was Betty Cooper, in how she made him feel and the angelic halo glow that surrounded her golden hair and engulphed him in goodness.

So, instead, he embraces her touch squeezing her hand comfortingly and coming back to stand at her side.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he promised, sounding more sincere then he had in a very long time, possibly forever.

“Good,” Betty whispers, before tugging him closer into her side and smiling up at him “because you’re my ride home.”

Jughead lets out one of his beautiful laughs, one that sends tingles across Betty’s skin and alights her soul.

“And here I thought it was my winning personality and dazzling looks that had you head over heels.”

“Maybe it’s a combination of all three.”

“Don’t you two make a cute couple,” comes a third voice, setting Jughead on edge and causing him to tighten his grip on the blonde’s hand.

“Kevin!” the blonde shrieks, her cheeks flushing in embarrassment.

“I’m just stating the facts,” Kevin replies, a wide grin on his face.

“Sorry about him,” Betty says, looking over at Jughead and observing his response.

“it’s fine,” he grunts.

Kevin raises an eyebrow at this and turns his gaze to Betty in silent question.

“Jug, this is Kevin, we met today and he warned me about the creep that is Chuck Clayton,” Betty says instead, ignoring Kevin’s question gaze and the heavy awkwardness that sits in the air.

“Oh,” Jughead begins, loosening his posture and his hold on her hand “I’m Jughead.” He finishes with a somewhat friendly nod in the Keller boy’s direction.

“Oh, I know. Betty won’t shut up about you,” the sheriff’s son teases, partially just to embarrass his new blonde friend.

“Okay!” Betty cuts him off before her friend could reveal any more embarrassing details.

Jughead couldn’t stop the grin that formed on his lips, even if he wanted to.

“I’ll wanna hear more about this later,” he says, giving Kevin, a firm look that he hopes doesn’t come off as threatening.

“But, for now, let’s get you fixed up. I have a first aid kit in my bag.” Betty continues, frowning at the injuries that litter his face.

“Of course you do,” Jughead teases, tugging her hand till she was pressed against his side.

“Permission to call you nurse Betty?” Kevin jokes, grinning at the not so subtle movement the Serpent made to have the blonde closer to him.

“Permission denied,” Betty retorts with a playful roll of her eyes.

“What about me?” Jughead asks, quirking a brow and looking down at the beautiful girl.

It was almost like Jughead’s eyes were actually the ocean that their colour suggests and Betty was drowning in them, lost in the crashing waves of cerulean blue and navy that swirled in his irises.

“I-I’ll think about it,” the blonde found herself saying, which only further pleased Jughead. “You’re sure smiling a lot for someone who got beat up,” she continues, both slightly annoyed and surprised at the cocky grin on his lips.

“Why wouldn’t I be when my nurse is as pretty as you?” Jughead murmurs, lowering his voice to try and prevent Kevin from hearing.

This extinguished all feelings of annoyance Betty had.

Veronica took this moment to interject with Archie in tow “Are you okay?” she asks Jughead, genuine concern evident in her features.

“Peachy,” he replies sourly, eyeing up the jock behind her.

“Thanks for stepping in, V,” Betty interrupts, sending a grateful smile her way.

“Of course, B. I wouldn’t want your man to get roughed up too bad.” She teases, enjoying the scarlet trail that spreads across her cheeks.

“I’ll see you guys tomorrow, we’ll sit together at lunch,” Betty promises, changing the subject to anything besides her and Jughead’s undefined relationship.

Veronica beams at this and nods, “Tomorrow!” she exclaims, pulling Kevin with her who says a brief goodbye before they all pile into her Mercedes.

“Do you tell all your friends I’m your boyfriend?” Jughead pipes up,

“Don’t talk, you’ll split your lip further,” Betty lamely reasons, hoping he would miss the igniting fire beneath her skin.

“I don’t mind, just asking,” he grins, enjoying the flush of her skin.

“Let's go into the school, I can fix you up in there,” Betty blurts, changing the subject once again.

Jughead decides he likes seeing Betty flustered like this, as she pulls him into the school by his hand and into one of the empty classrooms.

“Sit,” the blonde demands, gently pushing him towards a desk.

“I like when you’re bossy,”

“Sit.” Betty says again, more demanding this time which shoots straight to the older man's groin.

“Yes ma’am,” Jughead teases, taking a seat on the desk and letting his legs dangle over the edge. His long legs, however, allowed his feet to still be planted firmly on the ground.

Betty walks towards him, open first aid kit in hand and moves to stand between his legs. Both Betty and Jughead try to ignore how much they like this position.

“Can I take your hat off?”

Jughead nods, despite the flutter of nerves that erupted in his stomach.

Betty gently pulls the beanie off his head, smiling as the messy curls flop into his eyes. She hesitates only for a moment before running her fingers through the dark strands.

The Serpent boy sighs softly, but this time in pleasure, at the feeling of her fingers running through his matted curls.

“I like your hair,” she confesses, admiring the inky locks. “Why do you cover it up with a beanie?” she adds after a beat.

“I think that’s a story for another time, nurse Betty,”

Betty nods and untangles her fingers from his hair to survey his injuries.

“You’re an idiot” Betty sighs, taking in the bruises and scrapes on Jughead’s face.

“So I’ve been told,” jughead replies, wincing when his cocky grin only further splits open his lip.

“This isn’t funny,” Betty warns, voice shaking as she continues “you’re hurt.”

“I’ll be fine, I’ve had worse” He shrugs, trying to comfort the blonde.

“I don’t want you getting hurt for me; I can protect myself Jug.”

“I know you can, Betty. This isn’t about you being some damsel in distress it’s about that kid being an asshole,” The Serpent leader replies, wiping the blood from his knuckles on his jeans. He isn’t sure if the blood is his or not, but he doesn’t care either way.

“You’re sure it’s not even a little bit about protecting me?” Betty questions, pulling polysporin out of the first aid kit and setting the box on the table beside him.

“Maybe a little,” Jughead confesses, suddenly feeling bashful.

Betty shakes her head and squeezes a little bit of the medication on her finger.

“No more getting hurt, Juggie”

“No promises, it’s sort of part of the gig, Betts,” the injured boy chuckles, a faraway look in his eyes.

The green-eyed girl sighs again, cups his face in her palm and gently applies the cream to a cut on his forehead.

They sit in silence as Betty tends to the older boys wounds with a gentle but firm touch. Jughead has never had anyone take care of him like this, it makes his heart pound in his chest and his stomach do weird flips.

Betty finally breaks the silence, capturing his jaw in her fingers and searching his eyes before she speaks “You know I don’t care right?”

Jughead doesn’t say anything in return, just stares at the beautiful girl in front of him in wonder: _How can anyone like her see anything in him?_

“Hey,” she says again, cutting through Jughead’s thoughts with piercing eyes and a stern but caring tone “I don’t care, you’re still the same Jughead to me.”

“I’m dangerous, Betty,” Jughead snaps “I’m no fucking good for you.”

“You are good for me, Jug,” Betty insists, bringing her other hand up to his face so she was cradling his jaw. “You make me feel like I’m enough, that I’m strong and beautiful and like I mean something. You make me believe in myself, Juggie and there can’t be anything bad about that.”

When she finishes her thumbs are rubbing the line of his jaw and she’s so close to him that their noses are almost brushing.

“Betty...” Jug begins, his voice just a whisper as it ghosts against her lips.

“You split your lip more,” Betty blurts, eyes flickering to the crack in his pink flesh.

“It happens,” The boy supplies, seemingly uncaring of his injuries.

Her thumb moves to lightly stroke against the broken skin like her touch could somehow heal the wound beneath it. She wishes it could, she wants to take away his pain, but she can’t. Not this kind of pain anyway.  His lips are softer than she imagines, she pictured them rough and bruising but they are smooth and plump underneath her touch. However, she can feel the delicate hairline scars of previous battle wounds beneath her thumb littered across his lips. She wants nothing more than to kiss them better.

“You’re kind of amazing, you know that?”

“What?” Jughead laughs, like it’s the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard.

“You don’t see yourself as I see you,” Betty breathes after a moment “You’re independent and free, in the best possible way. You’re so strong, not just physically, emotionally too. I see it when your eyes flicker from a softened gaze to a hardened one. Or when you lower your voice to whisper sweet things in my ear like you’re scared someone might see you for the amazing guy you really are. Like you’re afraid they’ll have expectations you can’t meet. You shouldn’t be scared to show people how good you are, Juggie, because despite what you might think you’re so fucking good. The kind of good that’s real and pure, it’s deep in your soul and a part of who you are. And no matter what you do or how you try to hide it, it rises to the surface, making itself known. And if I can see it so can everyone else, you just have to let them.”

The blonde can see the tears filling his eyes and how he tries to blink them away to maintain his tough exterior, but she keeps her gaze steady and her hands lightly holding his head in place.

“You. Are. Good, Jughead Jones,” Betty punctuates each word, hoping it will stick in his brain and doesn’t dare break their eye contact, not even to blink.

Jughead doesn’t say anything and instead presses his lips against hers, capturing them in a loving embrace he hopes says everything he can’t manage to form into words.

Betty doesn’t hesitate and melts into his touch, kissing him back with equal parts passion and longing. Somehow her fingers end up back in his hair, tugging him closer till they are slotted together like two pieces of a puzzle. Jughead’s hands rest on the curve of her back, lazily circling the exposed flesh where her shirt had ridden up.

Jughead tastes like black coffee and cigarettes, something Betty thought she would hate but instead enjoys as she slides her tongue into his mouth, eager to taste more.

Betty tastes like strawberry milkshakes and vanilla cupcakes, something Jughead had always enjoyed but was now surprised to find out something could taste sweeter and better than the desserts themselves.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, what did you think? They finally had their first real kiss and I really like how this chapter turned out. I wanted to focus on Jughead's mentality and their relationship this go around. Let me know what you think in the comments pretty please as they make my day!


	7. That’s My Girl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone, sorry it has been so long but school has been kicking my ass. I hope this extra long chapter makes up for it.  
> Warning: Depictions of child abuse

The rest of the couple’s afternoon consisted of shared kisses and laughs in the hallowed halls of Riverdale High and when that wasn’t enough they curled up in the grass field behind the school and gazed at the blue sky above, enjoying the comfortable silence until the clouds floated away and were replaced by sparkling gems in a sea of navy. And only then did Betty, reluctantly, ask Jughead to take her home.

Jughead’s roaring bike pulled up beside her house, the leather of his jacket and the load engine contrasting starkly against the Cooper residence. Betty climbed off the bike once he had killed the engine, but didn’t move far from the boy straddling it.

“I had fun today,” Betty said, eyes glowing and smile radiant.

“Me too,” he grinned, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

“Not just that,” Betty retorted smacking his arm with her hand playfully as a blush blossomed on her skin.

“I had fun too, really,” Jughead murmured, all signs of joking drained from him. He didn’t want her to think this was a hookup. He wanted Betty in that way, of course, but he wanted her as a person too. She was beautifully flawed, he could sense that, but he embraced it because he was a little, if not a lot, flawed himself. He just hoped she could see the beauty in him that he saw in her. One look at Betty and anyone could tell that she was way out of Jughead’s league, but she didn’t see it that way. She saw him as complicated and deep, a three-dimensional character in a two-dimensional society. He had layers, he was more than just one thing, he was real. And, of course, Betty could see how stunningly beautiful Jughead Jones was, if not to anyone else or even himself, he was to her.

Betty took this opportunity to stand on her tippy toes and lock their lips together, pleasantly surprising the biker boy. However, Jughead immediately responded, cupping her cheek with one hand and using his other to slide across her narrow waist and pull her closer. She loved the taste of him and the way his lips felt against hers. There was something familiar and loving about his touch like they had been doing this all their lives.

Their lips moved in synchronization, instinctively knowing what the other wanted. Her teeth gently nibbled on his bottom lip threatening to reopen the wound but Jughead couldn’t care less, especially when her tongue moved to soothe over the cut and slide tentatively into his mouth. And if it was up to Jughead he would never stop kissing the blonde in front of him.

The two pulled apart with smiles on both their faces and the ghost of unspoken words lingering between them minutes later.

“I should head inside,” Betty finally said after a moment wishing it wasn’t true.

Jughead didn’t say anything and instead used this opportunity to admire her beauty. Her lips, now slightly swollen from their afternoon activities, were missing all traces of lip gloss that was once there and instead were coloured for an entirely different reason. The older boy smirked when the purple smudge against her jutting collarbone caught his eye. Something primal stirred in his gut at the thought of marking her as his. It looked like a streak of paint marking her fair skin in heughs of purple and tinges of blue, colouring the masterpiece that was Betty Cooper. Jughead thought this analogy was fitting, being that she was a work of art in and of itself.

“Jug?” Betty asked after a beat when the raven-haired boy hadn’t replied. He had this faraway look in his eyes like he was somewhere else entirely.

Jughead hummed in reply, his eyes memorizing every feature, line, and arch of her face. He wanted to get lost in the moment, lost in Betty Cooper’s loving touches and velvet voice. The boy reasoned that if he memorized her face, whenever she wasn’t there he could close his eyes and she would be. It wouldn’t be the same, of course; nothing could quite hold a candle in comparison to Betty’s presence or the things it did to Jughead. But even the image of her would be soothing, almost more reassuring than the actual company of others in his life.

“I have to go,” Betty said, voice dipping at the end of her sentence in sadness. The last thing she wanted to do was leave Jughead. He ignited something in her, something the blonde didn’t know existed but now that it was ablaze she never wanted it to go out.

“I’ll miss you,” Jughead finally replied, his voice raw and vulnerable. In that moment, Jughead was completely open and honest. It reminded him of when he was a kid and his mother would come tuck him into bed at night with a kiss on his forehead and a bedtime story. Her voice would lull him to sleep every night and even though he fell asleep before the story ended, his mother would always finish the tale before retreating to her own bed. Now, sometimes, when his eyes are closed and he’s tossing in bed and tangled in his sheets he swears he hears the whisper of her voice carried by the wind or even the ghost of her lips against his forehead. Jughead hasn’t really slept since then.

“I’ll miss you too,” Betty says, entwining both their hands and leaning against his chest so her head was tucked under the leather edges of his jacket and her face was pressed into his shirt. He smelled of cigarette smoke, library books, and something else that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Betty inhaled deeply, letting his aroma wash over her before she continued. “I don’t want to go inside, as soon as I do the day will be over and the happiness I’m feeling will melt away like snow…I’ll be left alone in the dark praying I was anywhere else.”

Jughead frowned at her confession and used his fingers to rub the curve of her back delicately in comfort. He understood the feeling of darkness all too well.

“You can stay at my place, Betty,” Jughead offered “I really don’t mind.” And that was the truth, in fact, the blue-eyed serpent would like nothing more than to have the beautiful blonde tucked under his arm beneath the blankets on his bed. He thought, for once, he might even get some sleep if that was the case.

“Oh, Jughead,” Betty sighed, a mixture of happiness and sadness filling the exasperation “I wish I could, I want nothing more than to never walk into that house again. Unfortunately, we don’t always get what we want and I have to go home.” Her voice cracked on the last word, sounding foreign to even her own ears.

Jughead’s arm moved to curl around her waist and tug her into him, till her body was flushed against his “Why can’t we get everything that we want if all I want is you?” he asked quietly.

“Jug…” Betty started, voice and resolve beginning to waver.

Suddenly, the porch light on Betty’s house turned on, alerting Betty to the fact that they were no longer alone. Betty snapped backward from his hold, like an elastic losing its stretch and distanced herself from the beanie-wearing boy. Jughead was confused, but that quickly changed to worry and protectiveness when he saw the panic in her eyes and the curl of her fists.

“Are you okay?” he asked, concern evident in everything that he was, from his eyes to his defensive stance.

Betty almost wanted to laugh and couldn’t help the twitch of her lip upwards in response. _Was she okay?_ God no. She hadn’t been okay in years, maybe not ever. But he was so sincere, wanting to fix whatever was wrong, wanting to protect her from everything he didn’t even know she needed protection from, like herself.

She couldn’t lie to him though, not like everyone else. It stirred something in her stomach and caused her heart to clench achingly at the thought. Instead, she whispered out a tiny “No.” that was barely audible to the Serpent’s ears before placing a light kiss on his cheek and heading towards the front door.

“Betty, wait,” Jughead called, reaching for her hand and pulling her back towards him; only then did he notice the tears trailing down her cheeks. He hated this, he wanted to close his eyes and shake the image from his head and to never see her crying again. He was sure, when he went to bed the image would haunt him, much like the slamming door of his mother leaving when he begged her to take him with her or the view from the window when she pulled out of the driveway taking his little sister with her.

“What’s wrong?” he begged, needing an answer so he could fix this for her.

Betty only shook her head and looked back towards the house, a look of pain and fear etched into her features. She tugged in his hold, signaling him to let her go without using the painful words she knew he didn’t want to hear. He didn’t want to let her go; he wanted to scope her up in his arms and ride off into the sunset with her, as dumb as it sounds, even in his own mind, that was all he wanted: to escape.

He brought his hand up to her cheek and used his thumb to brush away the tears that slid down the porcelain skin.

“I’m letting you go because you asked me, not because I want to,” Jughead explained, tilting her head up so his eyes locked on hers as he spoke. “I want you, Betty Cooper, in every way possible. But if you want to go inside,” he paused to let go of her hand but kept his other firmly on her cheek. “I’m not giving up on you, I don’t think I could, even if I wanted to.” He confessed before pulling back and reaching into her pocket to grab her phone. He quickly put his number into the pink device before sliding it back into her skirt.

“Just remember,” he spoke, bringing both his hands up to cup her face “I’m just a phone call away, always.” And with that, he placed a light kiss on her lips, so light that Betty was almost sure she imagined it, but the tingling of her pink flesh where he touched told her otherwise.

Betty put her hands atop Jughead’s that rested against her cheeks and gave them a gentle squeeze before pulling them off and kissing them lightly. She liked the idea of kissing his hands, it was a gentle and innocent gesture that she thought spoke volumes. Jughead silently agreed.

Betty pulled away first, moving towards her front door once again. With her hand on the knob, she turned back to glance at Jughead, who had stood still watching her climb the staircase and make her way across the porch.

“Goodnight, Betty Cooper,”

“Goodnight, Jughead Jones,” the blonde returned, stepping inside the house of horrors she was afraid might swallow her hole.

‘But at least I had today’ she thought with a smile.

The sight of Alice Cooper, arms crossed and a glare upon her beautifully aged featured filled Betty’s vision when she walked inside.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?” Barked Alice, ready to unleash her wrath.

“I was hanging out with a friend,” Betty reasoned, pleading that tonight wouldn’t end in bloodshed.

“A boy.” Her mother corrected, eyes narrowing in disgust.

“Yes, a boy but-” Betty began, ready to explain away her mother’s anger, which, for the record, never worked, but was cut off by a backhand slap to the face, immediately splitting her lip in the process. The teen almost cracked a smile at this, thinking that she and Jughead now had matching injuries.

“You whore!” Alice spat, fuming with anger and disappointment. “You’re going to end up just like Polly: a pregnant teenager that no one will ever want.” her mother screamed, almost taunting the blonde to reply.

In a moment of bravery, and stupidity, Betty yelled back in response “I’m not Polly!”

This is when everything really went downhill.

The older women grabbed Betty by her hair and began tugging her downstairs, letting her body bang into the railing and against the wall carelessly. Betty tried to keep her cries of pain muffled, knowing it would only anger her mother, but a few escaped her as her blonde locks were tugged on painfully. Betty knew what was coming next, she was all too familiar with what happened in the basement. Alice’s manicured nails dug into her scalp, penetrating the flesh as she twisted the younger blonde’s hair around her fingers until it was painfully tight.

“Maybe some time down here will teach not to speak back to your mother,” the older woman hissed, finally reaching the end of the staircase and yanking open a small supply closet that haunted Betty’s dreams.

“Please mommy!” Betty begged, eyes watering and heels digging into the floorboards to try and stop her impending doom.

If Betty didn’t know any better she might say she saw a flash of something in her mother, something she hadn’t seen in years. It was like a sudden flicker of realization struck her in what she was doing to her own daughter and she became the mom she was before her husband left her and her teenage daughter got pregnant and was sent off. But as soon as it was there it was gone.

“Enough! You’re not a baby, Elizabeth. If you’re old enough to be slutting it up around town at all hours of the night then you’re old enough to talk like an adult.” Alice said before throwing her into the tiny closet and slamming the door.

Betty curled up into a ball on the ground, hugging her knees to her chest and willing the tears to stop flowing. She heard the all too familiar sound of the lock sliding shut and her mother’s footsteps back up the staircase.

This time, however, her mother stopped at the top to say “Betty, I’m only doing this to keep you safe.” Before she closed the basement door and locked that too.

It was unclear if she was saying that to comfort her daughter or herself.

The cool, albeit hard, flooring felt nice against her aching muscles and scalp and in that moment she was almost content to be there. Until the panic set in.

She was never sure how long she was to be locked up for and it was impossible to tell as the days seemed to blur together in the darkness. But her throat was already dry and stomach growling from days without eating much. The dizziness mixed with the confined space was enough to have her hyperventilating in minutes. The panic was eating away at her last bit of sanity and rising in her throat in the form of a scream. She dug her fingernails into her palm, searching for some form of relief. Her breathing only beginning to calm slightly as the pressure intensified.

She remembered Jughead’s words from earlier and for a moment pictured him coming to her rescue. Suddenly, the pressure against her palms lessened at the thought and the swirl of panic seemed to subside for a moment.

She considered texting him but was unsure of what to say. ' _Hey, my mom just locked me in a closet. What’s up with you?'_ was out of the question, but it was honest. She didn’t want to lie, so she went for something that was a little less jarring than the closet confession:

_Hey, it’s Betty. I wish I went to your place._

The reply was almost instant: **I wish you did too. Is everything okay?**

_Not exactly, but it’s nothing I haven’t dealt with before._

Jughead frowned at his phone, his heart ached at the thought that she was hurting.

**What can I do, Betts?**

Betty smiled at the screen of her phone, overwhelmed by the sweetness that was Jughead. He really was a teddy bear.

_Take my mind off it?_

The rest of the night and well into the morning when the sun began to peak between the trees and rise from its slumber was spent exchanging messages. The two talked about everything from favourite colours to hopes and dreams and the conversation only stopped when Betty had fallen asleep, phone in hand and a smile on her face.

When she awoke it was well past noon and the door, once locked and bolted shut, was now ajar. At first, Betty thought her eyes were playing tricks on her but when she reached her hand forward and felt the open space for herself she bolted upright and scrambled through the opening. She quickly made her way towards the stairs, leaving the closet door open behind her. The sunlight filtering in the basement windows illuminated the inside of the door highlighting the nail marks carved into the wood, some fresh and tinged a dried red while others were clearly aged from years passed.

The ponytail Betty normally wore was undone and her clothes disheveled, if she looked into a mirror she would notice a swollen, split lip and a bruise on her cheek as well. The Hitchcock blonde carefully made her way up the stairs, cautious of her surroundings and of every creak the stairs made beneath her. When she finally made her way up to the first floor she peered around the house cautiously, looking for any sign of her mother. She noticed her beige purse missing from the kitchen island and her keys off the hook and immediately breathed a sigh of relief.

Betty made her way towards the fridge, her stomach growling in agreement at this move, but was stopped by the lock on the door her mother often put there.

 _‘Snacks only make you fatter, Elizabeth, wait till dinner’_ is what her mother always said.

Betty closed her eyes, trying to ignore her mother's voice in her head. She just wanted peace for one fucking second. Taunting phrases often whirled in Betty’s mind, degrading any decision she made that didn’t uphold her perfect image.

Behind her closed lids, the image of Jughead appeared, inky hair curling around the edges of his beanie and ocean eyes staring into hers. The image was so clear it was like a photo, not a detail missing; every beauty mark and dimple was so perfectly placed in her mind that she swore if she reached out she would feel the cool leather of his jacket between her fingers.

Swiftly she opened her eyes and pulled out her phone and sent a quick text to the Serpent.

Jughead awoke to the sound of his phone dining. His first response was to throw it across the wall to silence it but then he remembered Betty. He pried his sleep riddled eyes open to look at his phone and saw a message from the angelic blonde herself: _Pick me up?_

Jughead, being the broody boy that he was, immediately thought of the worst case scenario and immediately sent his reply: **On my way.**

Jughead quickly threw on his classic S t-shirt and a pair of black fitted jeans with suspenders hanging off them and sat on the edge of his bed to quickly lace his combat boots. He tried to ignore the slight tremor of his hands as he tied the thick black laces and shook his hand out stubbornly when the shaking only persisted. The Serpent leader was on high alert, adrenalin coursing through his veins and fueling his movements. He knew it had to be something serious, Betty didn’t say anything to confirm his fears but he could sense it. There was a looming cloud of darkness over her house that he was afraid would destroy everything in it, including Betty herself. He silently promised himself then and there that he wouldn’t let that happen. Not wanting to waste any more time he quickly grabbed the keys to his bike and dashed out the door, letting the flimsy metal reverberate back against the frame and by the time it shut Jughead was already gone.

Betty sat on one of the island stools in the kitchen, waiting for Jughead to appear. The cushioned fabric almost felt odd under her after spending the night on the ground. She used the tips of her toes to push up against the metal bar of the stool to test the bouncy fabric beneath her and was satisfied to hear the swoosh of the fabric when her weight came back down. The blonde wasn’t quite sure why but this amused her, she continued the actions a few more times before the sound of the front door opening and banging against the wall of the foyer interrupted the silence. She froze, her rear a few millimeters from the seat and held her breath in anticipation; for a brief moment she was afraid her mother was home until a husky voice cut through her doubts: “Betty?”

It was Jughead, Betty knew that much, she could recognize the rough octave his voice would take on that was somehow soothing to her ears; but there was something different about him. His voice was strained, taut in his throat like he was trying to control himself from yelling; and there was an edge to his tone something warning and protective like he wasn’t sure what he would be faced with when he rounded the corner.

“I’m in the kitchen Jug,” Betty called back. The only response she got was the sound of combat boots smacking against the hardwood planks of her floor.

“There you are!” Jughead exclaimed, a whoosh of air leaving his lungs in relief at the blonde, seemingly in one piece, perched upon a tall stool.

“Here I am,” Betty replied, smiling as she spun on the stool so she was facing Jughead.

Only when Betty turned did he realize how misplaced his relief was. The side of her face, once flawless and pale was now shadowed in bruises of different variations of colours, all making Jughead’s stomach turn. And her lips usually plump and pink were cracked with a line of dried blood to the right of her bottom lip, suspiciously matching his own mouth.

“What the fuck happened,” Jughead growled, hand coming up to rest on her face and inspect the damage. He didn’t miss the slight flinch that passed through her body when he raised his hand.

“I-it’s nothing,” Betty stammered, avoiding his knowing gaze.

“Nothing huh?” Jughead snapped, voice coming out harsher than he intended “Because when I dropped you off you certainly didn’t have this split lip or bruise on your face and now you do? What happened.” He demanded, refusing to take no for an answer this time.

“Please, don’t make me talk about it. Not right now at least, I just want to get away, to escape. If only for a minute…” she pleaded, watery eyes meeting his.

Jughead felt his demanding gaze soften at the sight, she had this hold over him that she didn’t even realize and with a single look he was putty in her hands.

‘God damn it, Betty Cooper’ he cursed silently, knowing he had already given into the blonde’s sad stare and soft pleas.

“Okay, but we are going to talk about it. Where do you want to go?”

“Pop’s.”

He couldn’t help the smile that illuminated his features at her reply, “That’s my girl,” he grinned, seemingly unaware that he said it out loud.

“Your girl, huh?” Betty questioned with a raise of her brow. She was trying to play it cool and hoped he didn’t realize the sudden flush of her face or the loud pounding of her heart that she was sure he could hear.

Jughead looked thrown off for a moment, something that was unfamiliar to them both before stammering his reply “Yeah, I mean…if you want to be.” In that moment Jughead wanted to smack himself, could he sound anymore embarrassingly stupid? It was like he had never talked to a girl before, but to be fair there aren’t any girls quite like Betty Cooper.

Betty, however, thought the contrary. She thought it was one of the most genuinely sweet things she had ever seen in her life, and if someone like Jughead Jones was tongue-tied around a girl like her she might just be the luckiest girl in existence.

“I would love that,” she beamed, reassuring any doubts that Jughead may have had with a simple smile.

Jughead wasn’t certain, as he had a long life ahead of him, but he was fairly positive that this was one of the best days of his life.

As the two made their way outside and towards his bike, he sent a final glare at the seemingly perfectly household, hating whatever happened behind the wrap around porch and white picket fence. He turned to look back at Betty, helmet strapped on and straddling the bike. She deserved the world and he was determined to give it to her.

He just wanted her to be okay, she deserved to be okay. Was that too much to ask?

Jughead joined her on the bike, carefully swinging his leg between her and the handlebars. Her arms came to wrap around his center comfortably and in that sliver of time, Jughead didn’t want to be anywhere else. With a flick of his wrist, he started his bike and rolled out of the Cooper’s driveway, leaving behind the pain and horrors that the house hid so well in his rear-view mirror.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did everyone think of this chapter and more Bughead kisses? Let me know in the comments below, they make my day and inspire me to write more! I also hope it was okay that there wasn’t really any other character besides Betty and Jug in this chapter, I promise we will some more of the core four in the next one!


	8. The Name of Our Town is Graceville

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone! Sorry, it has been so long I'm very busy with school as I'm going to be completing my degree in about two months. Thank you all for your kind comments as they mean the world to me, I hope you enjoy this chapter, it is once again focused on the Bughead dynamic. 
> 
> Warning: discussion of self-harm and child abuse

The pair sat across from one another in Pop’s diner, in the same red vinyl booth that they met with feet entangled beneath the ceramic table and fingers intertwined above. Jughead used his thumb to gingerly swipe across the bony arches of Betty’s hand, trying to comfort the blonde. She wore a small silver ring with a jewel that he didn’t recognize in the center that was encrusted with intricate woven silver around the base that pricked his thumb when he grazed it. The lighting of the diner created an eerily comforting view that dissipated the growing bruises on her cheek. He wondered if this was how everyone saw Betty, through an artificial haze that coloured reality until it was the rosy pink perfection she tried so hard to achieve.

“I’m starving,” Betty finally said shattering the silence and using her free hand to flick open the menu to skim the laminated pages.

“I don’t know why you’re looking at the menu, the burgers here are the best,” Jughead reasons, like it, should be obvious. “It’s just a fact that everyone knows, like red means stop and green means go like the sky is blue, and like you’re beautiful,” the older boy finishes, his voice soft and fraying on the last word.

The bruised teen cleared her throat, trying to get rid of the lump that emerged at his words and the flush of her cheeks. Jughead always managed to have this effect on her, she couldn’t explain it but she would never wish it away, for it filled her with hope and something new that blossomed in her core and warmed her very center.

In that sliver of time, under the commercial lighting of Pop's Chock'lit Shoppe with matching flushed faces from his confession, neither wished they were anywhere else.  And from his familiar seat in Pop’s the rest of the morning blurred at the edges till it was almost forgettable, but he knew he couldn’t forget it.

 “Well, maybe I want to try something else,” she explains, raising a brow when he looked appalled at the notion.

“Come on, Jug,” she adds when he doesn’t give in, fingers pausing with a page resting between them, “don’t tell me you haven’t had anything else besides burgers from here.”

“I’ve had fries and shakes as well, thank you very much,” Jughead defends, a stray curl falling from under his beanie to sweep across his forehead when he bobs his head.

“And that’s all?” she asks, eyes flicking to the dangerously delicate strand that begged to be brushed from his porcelain skin.

“I think I had some pancakes here when I was a kid...” the burger-loving boy trails off as he tries to recall a memory long buried. It’s fuzzy and painful, but a distinct image of his mother and father across him in that very booth with Jellybean next to him flashes before his eyes, like a snapshot of time capturing the last moment they were a family in the young man's mind.

“Maybe you want to try something new too,” the teen suggests, pausing to turn the menu around and pointing a painted fingernail down onto the page “chilly cheese fries, you would like those.”

He leans forward, jacket bunching into the corners of his elbows and exposing his forearms, to get a better look.

“You know, Betts,” the boy grins, tilting his head to catch the blonde’s gaze “I don’t think I’ve ever looked at the menu before.”

“I can picture it now,” she replies with a laugh bubbling at her lips “little baby Juggie sitting in the booth and knowing he wanted a burger no matter what.”

“I think that’s exactly how it went,” Jug replies, the nostalgia of that moment curling painfully in his gut. More often than not around Betty he seemed to be reminded of his passed, each memory sprouting like a weed and no matter how many times he ripped it out it always came back.

“I bet he was soooo cute” she coos, stringing out the ‘o’ with puckered lips.

“Oh, you know it, picture this beanie falling over my eyes and my hair too long and much too curly.”

“Sounds kinda like you now,” Betty teases, letting her urges take over and reaching forward to tuck the loose strand of hair back into his beanie.

“I’m still going to get a burger,” he replies, a soft smile contrasting against his gruff tone.

“Stuck in your ways I guess.”

“Well, there is one blonde girl who seems to be mixing things up a bit.”

Before Betty could reply she was cut off by Pop placing down a plate with two burgers and a pile of fries on it in front of Jug, alongside a chocolate shake. Jughead nods his thanks and immediately stuffs a handful of fries into his mouth.

“What can I go for you, hun?” Pop asks, smiling down at the blonde.

“Um,” Betty pauses, looking down at the menu for answers.

“Psst.” comes a voice from across the table.

Her green eyes flicker upwards to meet Jug’s and then down to his lips to see him mouthing _‘burger’_ at her. Her teeth come down to catch the giggle threating to break through her lips at the boy in front of her.

“I think I’ll have a cheeseburger and a strawberry shake,” Jughead grins wide at this, so wide that his shake’s straw falls from his lips “with onion rings.”

“Coming right up,” Pop promises, scooting away and disappearing into the back.

“Onion rings, huh?”

“I thought I would mix it up and maybe even get you to try some.”

“Oh, Betts,” Jughead tsks with a shake of his head like he’s scolding a child “I never turn down food.”

“Another thing we don’t have in common,” Betty mumbles, resting her chin in the palm of her free hand.

Jughead frowns and wipes his greasy fingers off on his jeans before stretching them towards the blonde to rub soothing circles on the bend in her arm.

“Haven’t you ever heard the saying ‘opposites attract’?” the Serpent teases, a lopsided grin on his handsome features.

“Of course I have, but-”

“There couldn’t be light without darkness,” he interrupts, already knowing what she was going to say. “they bring out the best in each other and you would be surprised what two people who seem completely and utterly different have in common.”

Betty smiles at this, and tucks a stray curl behind her ear “You know, Jug, you really have a way with words.”

“It’s a writer thing,” he supplies with a shrug.

“You’re a writer?” Betty asks, lighting up at the prospect of another person with a passion for literature as deep as hers.

“In the loosest sense of the word.”

“C’mon, Juggie, I’m sure that your work is amazing and-”

“Betty,” Jughead interrupts, his tone turning serious as he leans forward to grasp both of her outstretched hands. “I would love to sit here and talk about writing and classic literature with you all day but that’s not why we’re here. You promised you would explain; I need you to talk to me, let me help you.”

“I can’t, Jug.”

“Yes, you can.” Jughead assures, squeezing her hands softly for added measure “I’m here for you.”

“I know you are, but I’m scared,” Betty confesses, eyes shifting to stare at their interlocked hands.

“Hey,” Jug whispers, using his first two fingers to tilt her chin up “No matter how scared you are or how deep this goes I’m here for you. I’m not going to let you get hurt again, no matter what I have to do I will protect you, always.”

“Always?” the blonde asks, voice small and barely audible as her eyes search his for any sign of deception.

“Always,” Jughead confirms, before leaning in to place a soft kiss on her lips.

Their lips, both split and chapped from their injuries mesh together seamlessly and for a moment the young couple thinks that they’ll be okay, just because they have each other.

They break away only when Pop sets down a pink tinted milkshake on the side of the table and says: “Sorry to interrupt Jughead, I thought your friend might be thirsty.”

“Girlfriend,” the Serpent corrects, cyan eyes not leaving her sea greens.

“Girlfriend,” Pop hums, looking between the dark brooding boy and the pastel wearing girl.

“I think that’s great Jughead, you look good together,” Pop says, smiling at the beanie-wearing boy that grew up before his eyes “I’m glad you’re finally happy,” he finishes, clasping his hand down on the Jones boys shoulder and squeezing it in a way only family would, before walking away.

Jughead wasn’t sure how to identify what he was feeling, it was a mixture of pride, happiness, and love that he’s not sure he had ever felt before. Pop Tate, who had fed him throughout the years and offered sage advice alongside salty snacks, who had never turned his back on the boy even when a snake was on his, and who was more like a father than his own flesh and blood had made him feel this with one simple gesture in the diner that contained the memories of his past, present, and future.

He sat here when he was a kid, eating sticky pancakes with his parents and JB.

He sat here when he was a teenager, typing away on a second-hand laptop with a black cup of coffee in hand.

He sat there now, with a beautiful blonde and a burger and fries.

And in the future, when the worry lines on his face become defined with age and the creases of laughter take their toll, he can see himself sitting across from Betty, who would still be as beautiful as she is now, like time ran backwards for her beauty, at Pop’s diner, relishing in the moments the four walls housed.

The blonde fiddled with her pink straw, bending it to stir the sticky liquid before taking a long sip and relishing in the swirl of vanilla and strawberry that exploded on her tongue.

“It’s bad,” the doe-eyed girl finally confesses “like really fucking bad.”

Jug couldn’t help the twitch of his lip upwards when she sore, before the meaning of her words sunk in.

In that moment the crowned boy wasn’t sure what to say, he wanted to comfort her but he didn’t know how. Her big, beautiful eyes were blurring with tears and her bruised bottom lip wobbled under the pressure of the movement. When her gaze met his he wanted to cry for her, to take all the pain she felt on his shoulders and lighten the load on hers. He hated seeing her like this, it made him sick to his stomach; too sick to even eat so, slid his plate to the side suddenly losing his appetite.

But, Jughead offered all that he could, a reassuring smile and a soft kiss on the back of her hands with a nod to continue.

“It started when my sister got pregnant I guess, I mean there were…incidents before that but this is when things really took a turn for the worst.” Betty started, her voice taking on a monotonous tone like she had to distance herself from her own life or she would completely break down.

Jughead felt like the snake off his jacket had coiled in his stomach, taking on the form of dread and fear at the sound of her words.

“We used to live in Graceville, it’s this small town kind of like Riverdale I guess, minus one hot biker of course. But, it was a town where everyone knew each other and secrets didn’t last long; so, when my sister, Polly, got pregnant by the captain of the football team it wasn’t long before everyone knew. And once everyone knew it wasn’t long before my mom found out and sent her off.”

“Sent her off?” Jug asks confusion make itself known in the lines of his face.

“She was ashamed of Polly, so she sent her away to Sisters of Quiet Mercy which is basically a prison with nuns. That was three months ago and I haven’t seen her since, we packed up and moved here as soon as we could to distance ourselves from the town and everything in it, including Polly.”

“Jesus, Betts, I’m so sorry,” Jug says, squeezing her hand comfortingly.

“That’s not the worst part, Jug,” the blonde interjects, her voice wavering when she says his name “she’s so terrified that I’m going to end up like Polly that she has to control everything I do. She controls what I eat, what I wear, who I see, everything. And when I don’t do what she says or exactly how she wants she-” Betty stops, her voice cracking and fingers curling inwards anxiously.

This action doesn’t go unnoticed by Jughead and his eyebrows furrow in worry.

“Betty,” he starts, reaching for her hands.

“No, Jug, I-I have to say this,” Betty recoils, hands sliding under the table and out of his line of sight. “if I don’t do what she says she hits me, or locks me in a closet, or belittles me to the point of tears, self-hatred, and…this” she finishes, lifting her hands back onto the table and open them to showcase the crescent scars on her palms.

“Betty…” Jughead trails off, not sure what to say. He feels like his world is turned upside down like he was punched in the gut and struggling to breathe. He wants to reach out to touch her, hold her close till everything is okay. But he’s scared, scared to hurt the already damaged girl before him.

“I’m broken” the Cooper girl croaks, her voice strained with tears and a sob bubbling at the surface “I’m really broken Jughead and you can’t fix me.” And finally, a tear rolls down her cheek, running down over the growing bruise and highlighting it when the light above catches it just right.

“Hey,” her boyfriend replies, his voice strong and unwavering “You. Are. Not. Broken, Betty Cooper.” He says it like a mantra, one that he hopes will stick with her as he reaches out with both hands to gently grasp hers “You are strong, so fucking strong, and you don’t even realize it because your monster of a mother has been telling you the contrary for so long. But look at you, Betty, you’re here and you’re sweet and you’re smiling and you’re so fucking good. You haven’t let this ruin you and I won’t let it ruin you either.” With that, Jughead places a kiss on Betty’s knuckles, fingers, palm, and basically anywhere else his lips could reach, wishing he could kiss away the scars and he makes a vow in that booth at Pop’s: that no matter what, he was going to get her out of that house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did everyone think? I hope I did Betty's abuse and self-harm justice, I am not an expert in either of these topics and I don't mean any disrespect or to do an unrealistic portrayal of depression or the reality of self harm. Let me know in the comments how you liked this chapter!


	9. Ride On Runaway

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone! I'm so sorry that it has been so long. I wasn't feeling very inspired and I was very busy with school. I hope you like this chapter there are some Kev and Veronica appearances as well!
> 
> Warning: Discussion of child abuse

Hours had passed since the couple had first sat in the booth, they were surrounded by empty glasses with cleaned plates in Jughead’s case and cold leftovers in Betty’s.

“Let’s run away together,” Jughead says, breaking the comforting silence that had fallen over the pair.

“Jug...” Betty sighs, drawing out his name and flicking her eyes up to meet his.

“Come on, just listen to me, Betts.” The darker hair boy begs, the soft plea evident in his hypnotic eyes.

The blonde, unable to resist his request nods, signaling for him to continue.

“We could get on my bike, head anywhere you like. I know you like the beach, maybe we could go to California. Someplace where no one knows us and we can just leave all our problems behind. I have some money stashed away, enough to set us up somewhere that’s real nice.”

Betty smiles, a soft, sad smile because it’s everything she wants but can’t have.

“Oh Juggie,” she whispers, voice dipping when she breathes his name “I want nothing more than to hop on that bike, put this town in our rearview mirror and ride off into the sunset.”

Jughead grins wide, teeth shining and eyebrows raising as he interrupts the blonde unable to contain his excitement “Great! We can leave in a few days, I just have-”

“Jughead-”

“I’ll have to do a quick tune-up on the bike before we go, you can help me with that right?”

“Yes, but Jug-”

“We can sneak into your place when your moms at work and grab some of your stuff, just the essentials though we’ll travel light.”

“Jughead!” Betty exclaims, her voice raising an octave

“Huh?” The serpent responds like he had just heard her for the first time, the goofy, carefree smile still on his face.

“I would love to run away with you, believe me. I would give anything to put this all behind us and just be with you, but...I can’t.” The blonde’s voice softens the further along she gets into her explanation, and at the end, it’s barely a whispers as her hand grasps his and she’s leaning halfway across the table to comfort him.

“Oh,” he breathes, the air rushing out of his lungs in a gust deflating his smile and any sense of happiness that had begun to fill him.

“It's not that I don’t want to because I do. But I can’t leave. She’ll find us, hell, she won’t let me leave in the first place. The last thing I want to do is get you in trouble. Besides, I won’t let you uproot your life for me,” Betty explains, wishing it didn’t have to be this way.

“I’m already in trouble, I have been for years. I’m the leader of a gang for Christ sakes, Betts. I can deal with this. And for the record, I would give this all up” Jughead begins, voice unwavering as he gestures around him “to make sure you were safe.”

“I don’t want you to have to give up anything for me,” Betty croaks, her voice a whisper as she shakes her head in defiance. “She’s fucking scary, Jughead, and mean. I don’t want you getting hurt,” The blonde’s voice begins to shake and her hand's recoil, in search of skin to dig into.

“I’m scarier, meaner.” The biker growls, his lip twitching into a protective snarl in response to Betty’s fear.

“You’re a puppy dog,” she replies, a  smile ghosting across her lips.

“Only to you.”

A full smile graces her lips at this and she flattens her palms on the ceramic table top to stop the burning itch she feels to split open the skin that resides there.

“Let me protect you, Betty, I can help you,” Jughead begs, something he has never done and slides his hands over hers. The warmth of his palms over the back of her hands feels nice, comforting. It’s almost like a part of Jughead was seeping into her and telling her that everything was going to be okay, with Jughead there nothing could go wrong.

“Okay,” Betty nods, unable to deny the sincerity in his voice and the softness in his eyes. “But I can’t run away, we have to figure something else out.”

Jughead pauses at this and sticks his bottom lip out slightly till he’s almost pouting before he sucks it back in and nods.

“Fine, but we are doing something.”

“Betty?” Comes a voice from the door of Pop’s.

She doesn’t recognize the voice at first, there’s a familiarity to the tone with a wisp of surprise tinting the edges. But when she looks up and sees Kevin and Veronica she can’t help the smile that blossoms on her face, despite the split lip that stretches as she does so.

“Hey, guys! Come sit,” Betty calls, standing to move beside Jug so they can have the other half of the booth.

Jughead wants to grumble about the interruption but any complaints die in his throat as Betty’s thighs press into his and her sweet strawberry smell envelopes his senses.

The pair walks over, tentatively sitting down across from the couple.

“Sorry if we’re interrupting a date,” Veronica apologizes, a hint of curiosity easily identifiable in her faux remorse.  

“Don’t worry about it at all, the more the merrier,” Betty chirps sincerely.

“If you say so, Betts,” Jug grumbles his arm swinging across the back of the booth as a silent invitation for Betty to tuck herself into his side.

It is then very apparent to the other two teens how different the couple really is from one another.

“Aw come on Juggie,” Betty coos, snuggling into his leather-clad side “Be nice to them, they’re my friends.”

Jughead rolls his eyes but nonetheless agrees, but in his defence, Betty curled this close to him kind of makes it hard to think of anything else besides her soft skin and sweet smell.

“You guys want some food?” Jughead offers, his voice still rough but the sentiment there all the same.

“I’m starving,” Kevin blurts, eyeing Betty’s cold leftovers on her plate.

“They’re cold,” Betty warns, following his line of site.

“We’ll order some new stuff then, right Kev?” Veronica says, nudging the boy discreetly with her elbow below the edge of the table.

“Uh right,” Kevin replies, not sounding very convinced of his own words.

At this, they all laugh, and Jughead even manages a small smile.

“Jug recommends the burgers,” Betty says, grinning as she recalls their previous exchange.

“They’re really fucking good, okay Betts?”

“I’m on Jughead’s side with this one, they are the best burgers in Riverdale,” Kevin defends.

“I like him,” Jug says, tilting his head towards Kevin.

“Me too,” Betty says, smiling at the boy in front of her who she considered a good friend.

Kevin couldn’t contain the blush that blossomed at their compliments, especially Jughead’s. He’s never heard something like that from a boy so attractive.

“Not really feeling the love over here, you guys” Veronica jokes, a hint of seriousness colouring her words.

“Aw, V, we love you too,” Betty reassures, sending a beaming smile her way.

“You better,” the raven-haired girl warns, a matching smile on her glossed lips.

At that moment, Betty wasn’t sure she ever wanted to be anywhere else.

The rest of the evening was spent enjoying sticky milkshakes, salty fries, and savoury burgers over laughs, some which even came from Jughead himself.

If one were to see the four Riverdale residents in the corner booth at Pop’s they would assume it was a group of friends, maybe even on a double date, sharing fries and laughs as the evening dimmed and turned into night. They wouldn’t see the scars on Betty’s hands or the bruises on her face. They wouldn’t see the snake embroidered on Jughead’s jacket or know the bike outside belonged to him. They wouldn’t know that Veronica’s dad was in jail or that Kevin was scared he would never find someone to love him. In that moment they just looked like friends, without a care in the world, and maybe, for now, at least, that’s what they were.

All was still and silent in Riverdale, the sun had long set and fog had settled in where hills dipped and at the edges of Sweetwater River. If one were to walk down the sidewalk they wouldn’t see a single light on, not in a store, not in a house. The Cooper house, from the outside, looked the same as all the others: dark, quiet, safe. Unfortunately for Betty that wasn’t the case.

Across town, pass Southside High and down a gravel road was the Whyte Wyrm, if you followed the smell of cheap alcohol and the rumble of motorcycles you could always find it. But even at this time of night, the bar was quieter, a few drunks were passed out on various surfaces and the quiet hum of the Jukebox playing Ride On by AC/DC echoed in the open space. Toni had long since gone home, but the faint smell of her perfume lingered behind the bar.

Around the back of the building was a set of stairs that led to a little apartment that resided over the bar and this is where you could find Jughead and Betty. Both curled against each other listening to the soft melody that wafted up from the bar below.

“What are going to do, Juggie,” the blonde asks, fear beginning to ebb its way into her voice.

Jughead tightens his hold on her in response, hating the way she trembles in his hold

“You’re going to come live with me,” he says, his voice somehow both soft and firm.

“I can’t.”

“No, Betty. You can’t live there anymore, it’s dangerous and I’m not going to let you get hurt again. I’m going to protect you whether you like it or not because I..” a lump begins to form in his throat as he struggles to describe what he feels “I care about you Betts and I’m not going to let anything bad happen to you, not anymore.”

“It’s not that simple, she won’t just let me leave,” Betty explains, trying to ignore the kaleidoscope of butterflies that were released in her stomach at his confession.

“We don’t have to tell her, you can just stay here tonight and never go back. I can sneak in when she’s at work and grab all your stuff and you never have to go back.”

“But she’ll know where to find me Jug, I go to school at Riverdale High and this town isn’t big enough for me to hide in.”

“You won’t ever be alone, me or Kevin or Veronica will always be with you. Fuck, if I have to I’ll get Serpents to guard you 24/7. And if she threatens to take you away or the call the police we’ll threaten to tell them all the nasty, horrible, vile shit she did to you and she cares too much about her image to let that happen.”

Betty doesn’t say anything for awhile, she stews on his words, letting them sink in and really take hold.

Jughead doesn’t push her for a response and instead just pulls her closer and closes his eyes, listening to faint music from below.

_It's another lonely evenin'_

_In another lonely town_

_But I ain't too young to worry_

_And I ain't too old to cry_

“I don’t know if it will work, Jug. But something has to. I can’t live like this anymore, it’s killing me. I’m scared that if something doesn’t change I’m going to disappear and no one will ever know what happened to me and then, eventually, I’ll be forgotten. Something has to fucking give because I’m so tired of living like this.” The blonde confesses, voice bitter and broken.

“I won’t let you disappear, Betty,” Jughead promises pulling the girl closer to kiss her head. “I’ll do whatever it takes to make you feel safe again.”

_And I ain't too old to hurry_

_Cause I ain't too old to die_

_But I sure am hard to beat_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, what did you guys think? I hope Betty's hesitation and eventually giving in came off as realistic. I will also, in later chapters, talk about Betty's self-harm and her eating disorder these topics are big and not going to be simply forgotten or 'healed' just because she has a boyfriend. Let me know if you liked this chapter in the comments below! COnstructive criticism is also welcomed.


	10. Welcome Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe we are at chapter 10 already! Thank you to all those who left their sweet, detailed comments as they inspired me to type up this chapter pretty quickly. This is the longest chapter yet so I hope it's not too long, I spent all day writing this instead of doing the piles of assignments I have so you might not hear from me for a while now. I hope everyone enjoys this chapter as I was on a roll and really like how it turned out. 
> 
> Warning: Discussion of child abuse and self-harm. Depictions of violence involving guns

It was morning in Riverdale, well, more accurately it was 11:00 am. The dew that clung to the blades of grass had since melted under the beams of sunlight and had slid into the soil below leaving the earth moist. Most morning travelers had already reached their destination, whether that be work or school, leaving the streets of Riverdale, much like late at night, quiet.

Betty Cooper, however, was only just waking. The drowsy blonde opened her eyes, only to shut them swiftly when a flicker of light from between the curtains tickled her retinas. She groaned at the intrusion, throwing her arm across her face and hiding it in the crook of her elbow. Betty stayed like this for a moment, now enjoying the warmth the sun provided. As she became more aware of her surroundings she noticed her sheets felt different and her bed too for that matter. It not only felt different but it smelt different; when she wrapped her fingers around the soft material and brought it to her nose it smelled of fresh cotton and laundry detergent tinged with the underlying aroma of coffee and cigarettes. She knew that smell, in fact, she was kind of obsessed with it lately.

“Jughead,” she murmured involuntarily, basking in his sent. It was almost like she was engulphed in everything that he was.

It was only then when Betty decided to open her eyes and was mildly surprised to see her surroundings. Instead of soft pinks and purples masking the familiar drywall of her room accented with white furniture and fuzzy surfaces she was faced with navy-blue walls covered in band posters, artwork, and other paper clippings she couldn’t quite make out from where she lay. The room was accented with muted greys and shades of black and white throughout. The wall directly in front of her housed a large window with black curtains drawn together to block the intruding sunlight, which only failed to do so when they bellowed and gapped at the seams. On either side of the window were towering bookcases, filled with so many books she couldn’t count. They were so many stuffed into the shelves that he had begun to stack them on top of the bookshelf itself and in piles around the base of the furniture.

What caught Betty’s eyes the most was the small window seat hovering beneath the curtains, covered in black cushion with one of Jug’s sweaters tossed on it. The sun peaked through the bottom gap in the curtains acting as a spotlight to the seat, beckoning Betty to rise. As she stood, letting the sheets slide off her skin, the blue material almost resembling water the way it rippled down her flesh, the previous night flashed before her mind. She remembered talking with Jughead until the sun had woken and peaked out from beneath its blanket of night, whispering good morning to the earth. She remembers finally, at what must have been 2:00 am, coming to the decision to move in with Jughead. He had promised her she would be safe here and she believed him. Trusted him. Sometime shortly after that the couple with loose limbs and sleep ridden minds wandered to his bed and collapsed into the black sheets, engulphed by their dreams almost instantly.

The Cooper girl made her way towards the window seat, enjoying the cool air on her pale, naked legs that were only covered by a pair of Jug’s boxers. In a quick motion she yanked the curtains open, letting the cascade of light into the room and wash over her, almost like the warmth and brightness of the sun could fill her up and keep her that way. A soft sigh escaped her lips, this time a happy one.

_‘Today is a new day’_ she thought, smiling to herself as she curled up on the seat. After a moment of consideration, she pulled on his hoodie, relishing in the soft material. She loved that the sweater was too big and reached mid-thigh, that the sleeves were much too long and reached her fingertips. The collar of the sweater was set high and reached just below her chin, which if she tilted her head down she could snuggle into the material almost like it was Jughead himself. His sweater almost felt like a hug which to the blonde was a precious treasure she never wanted to rid herself of.

There Betty sat, curled up in Jughead’s clothes on a window seat that must be much too small for his long limbs gazing at the sky above that was filled with lazy rolling clouds and a sun that shone almost too bright. The only thing missing was Jughead himself.

Decided to search for the boy she stood from her seat, silently promising she would be back soon.

Betty tip-toed into the living room, sock feet silent against the tile as she looked around the apartment.

“Jug?” she called, voice echoing off the walls and bouncing back to her as the only reply.

She decided to check the kitchen, figuring if he was anywhere besides her side near food was the next best bet.

“Jughead?” she called again, sliding into the kitchen just like in Risky Business, sock feet slipping smoothly against the tile. Once again, she was met with nothing but silence. Her stomach growled at the sight of a bag of fresh New York style bagels on the counter but she quickly ignored it, reasoning to herself that she had to find her boyfriend first, before spinning on her heel and quickly exiting the sleek kitchen.

When Betty was sure she had checked every room in the house and her phone multiple times she had come to the conclusion that she would have to venture out of the safety of ~~his~~ _their_ apartment to search for him. The thought alone made an uncomfortable feeling grow in her chest, something along the lines of fear and panic mixed with dread that had begun to crawl its way up her throat in the form of nausea.

But, she swallowed this feeling and curled her hands into fists to stop the slight tremble in her them. She was on a mission now, to find Jughead and nothing, especially her own fear, was going to stop her.

A few minutes later she was redressed in yesterdays clothes plus Jughead’s sweater, hair tied up into a high, neat ponytail. The growing bruise on her face was getting worse, but without her makeup here there was little she could do. Before heading out the door she slipped into her shoes, tying the pristine, white laces into a neat bow all the while thinking where her mysterious boyfriend had disappeared to.

Fortunately for Betty, she wouldn’t have to go very far.

With a new skip in her step and determination set in her shoulders, she made her way downstairs to the bar, following the sounds of clinking glasses and old-timey music flowing from the Jukebox.

The bar at this time of day was fairly empty, a few patrons filled the seats and stood around the pool table swapping stories of the previous night, smoking cigarettes and nursing amber coloured liquids Betty couldn’t name.

Her presence, although physically quiet seemed to alert the whole room to her descent as all eyes in the bar turned towards her.

However, this didn’t deter Betty. She made her way towards the bar, chin held high and shoulders squared.

“Excuse me?’ she said to a young bartender with cotton candy for hair who couldn’t be much older than she.

Toni looked up, drinking in the girl's appearance, noting that she was attractive, of course, but also seeing the bruises on her otherwise perfect skin and the Serpent sweater she wore.

“You’re Jughead’s girlfriend aren’t you,” Toni replied, putting down the glass she was wiping on a shelf and walking closer to the slim girl.

“How did you know that?” Betty asked, slightly surprised since she had never seen this girl before.

“I mean, you’re all he talks about, you’re wearing his sweater, and you came from upstairs. I just put two and two together,” she concludes, shrugging her shoulders like it’s no big deal. “It’s Betty, right?” she asks, more to be polite than anything since she’s already heard Jug say it about a million times.

“Yes, I’m sorry I don’t know your name?” Betty says, feeling slightly embarrassed and rude.

“Toni,” the curly haired Serpent replies moving to sit beside the blonde on a leather stool.

“It’s great to meet you,” Betty pauses looking around the bar for any sign of her boyfriend.

“Hey,” Toni says, already trying to come up with a distraction “want to hear about Jughead when he was a kid?” she offers, knowing it’s too tempting to resist.

The green-eyed girls’ eyes light up at this and she nods so fast her ponytail bobs and bounces as she does so. She figures finding Jughead could wait a minute or two.

 

Jughead, however, was on the other side of town, three other Serpent’s by his side as he made his way up pristine porch steps to a modern front door.

“Listen, this bitch might look like some sweet, apple pie baking housewife but she’s anything but,” Jughead states, bending down into a crouch as he began to pick the front lock. “She beats Betty, locks her up, she…” he growls, unable to finish and shakes his head. “She’s a monster okay? So, treat her like one.” He concludes, clicking open the front lock and standing up.

The other three Serpent’s were shocked, a nice house like this up in the Northside hid a lot more secrets than any of them could have bargained for.

The group made their way into the house, closing the door behind them and made their way towards the staircase leading upstairs.

“Hey! Who are you?!” comes a woman’s voice, tinged with alcohol from the kitchen.

The Serpent’s turn to the blonde, who they notice is holding a large glass of wine and dressed head to toe in perfectly ironed, expensive clothes topped with impeccable jewelry, no wedding ring, and high heels.

Jughead is the first to speak, making his way closer to the older women, eyes dark and narrowed in her direction. Alice, slightly frightened of the opposing figure stumbles backward, sloshing some of the burgundy liquid over the rim and onto the carpet below.

“W-what do you want?” she manages to stutter, back bumping into the wall successfully cornering herself, much to Jughead’s amusement.

“You’re Alice, right?” Jughead asks, even though he already knows the answer.

She nods, her hand shaking and threatening to drop the glass despite the iron grip she had on the stem.

Jughead presses closer to the frightened woman, wanting her to feel an ounce of fear that Betty felt every day in this house and still feels because of her.

“My boys and I are going to go upstairs and grab Betty’s stuff,” He pauses only to glare at Alice when she opens her mouth to complain and continues once she snaps it back shut again. “We’re going to load it into our van and you’re never going to see any of it or Betty ever again. She’s going to live with me now, I’m going to take better care of her than you ever could than you ever have,” he growls, voice low and menacing, just begging her to question his authority.

“She’s my daughter!” Alice cries, like this suddenly means something to her.

“Maybe you should have acted like it then, lady!” pipes up Sweet Pea from the staircase, as he carries down a box full of clothes.

“You don’t know anything about me or my daughter!” The Cooper woman roars, her anger boiling.

“I know a lot more than you think and if you ever lay a hand on your daughter again I’ll tell everyone in this town.” Jughead threatens, his hands twitching in anger.

“Do you really think the people of this town are going to believe a low life gang banger over me?” Alice asks, smirking arrogantly thinking she has him now.

Jughead, unable to contain his hate and rage any further, slams her into the wall with his hand around her throat, effectively knocking the glass of wine out of her hand and spilling the red liquid at her feet.

“I think you’ve overestimated my character, Mrs. Cooper,” he snarls, like a rabid dog chomping at the bit. “I will hurt you, I’m not afraid to kill. I’ve done it before.” He squeezes her throat tighter to emphasize his point. “Telling everyone in town is just a warning, the first step to ruining you and by the last step you’ll be begging for it all to stop and only when I decided to finally end your pathetic excuse of an existence, in the most painful way I can think of, will it finally cease.”

The other two Serpents couldn’t help but shudder at his threats as they made their way back upstairs to gather more of Betty’s things. They knew Jughead all his life and they knew he was deadly serious. He would do anything to protect that girl, including killing her mother.

Alice was now shaking, tears streaming down her face streaking and smudging her perfectly painted skin.

“O-okay,” she choked out, struggling to even gasp for breath under his firm grip. “Just don’t hurt me,” she begged, bottom lip wobbling and knees buckling.

“You’re pathetic,” Jughead spits, pulling her forward by her throat and shoving her back into the wall roughly. The older blonde, who only resembled Betty in a physical sense, slid down into a crumpled heap on the floor mixing with the spilled wine.

It doesn’t take long for the boys to pack up the remainder of Betty’s things into the van. Jughead, now upstairs in her room stands with the last box in his arms, looking at the space around him. He wonders how many nights Betty cried alone in her room, bloodied and beaten, begging for someone, anyone to help, to make the pain go away. He wonders how often she hurt herself inside these very four walls because that was her only escape. He shakes his head, physically trying to rid his brain of the onslaught of thoughts and images of Betty hunched over in pain or worse, emotionless as her nails dug into her skin, in search of a relief he’s not sure she ever got.

Without a second glance, he spun on his heel and left the room, making his way back downstairs. _‘She’s going to be okay, now’_ he tells himself, hoping its true. He knows it’s not that easy and that she’ll probably always struggle with this, but she has him now. She won’t ever be alone again.

Jughead glances towards Alice, who still resides on the floor, the wine now staining her skirts and the carpet below and makes a quick decision.

“Take this to the car,” he says, passing the large box towards Fangs before pulling out his gun. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

Fangs does not question his leader instead he nods and walks out of the house, closing the door behind him.

Jughead stalks towards the sobbing blonde, not an ounce of empathy filling his heart as he crouches down to her level.

The gun feels heavy in his hand as pushes it under her chin, tilting her head up with the cool metallic barrel until she’s looking into his eyes. Her eyes, although a similar shade of green to Betty’s look completely different from the teens. Alice’s, even now, are empty and cruel, with only the thought of her own image and safety flashing in them. Jughead wonders how their eyes could look so alike yet completely different. This isn’t the first time Jughead has seen absolute fear and terror in the rawest form, but it’s the first time he’s been this enraged. He was cool on the outside, not a crease in his face or a dip in his facial expression and that, besides the gun, is what scared Alice Cooper the most.

“If you ever come looking for her this is what you’re going to find,” Jughead threatens, digging the gun into her flesh and flicking the safety off. “got it?”

Alice begins to cry hysterically at this, begging for her life in incoherent words that Jughead couldn’t care to decipher.

“Do I make myself clear?!” he yells, voice rising and shaking with anger, finger itching to pull the trigger.

“Yes! Yes! I’m sorry, god I’m so sorry,” Alice babbles, hiccupping as snot runs out of her nose and smears across her lips.

Jughead takes a moment to enjoy the sight of the mighty Alice Cooper a sobbing mess at his feet before rising, gun in hand.

“Don’t forget that.”

He doesn’t wait for a reply, only simply flicks the safety back on, tucks the gun into the waistband of his jeans and makes his way back out of the house.

He walks towards the van, flinging the door open and getting into the drivers’ side before starting up the vehicle.

“You didn’t kill her?” asks Sweet Pea, curious and slightly confused.

“Not this time,” Jughead replies, before shifting into reverse and pulling out of the Cooper’s driveway one last time.

 

Jughead walks into the bar, flanked by his fellow Serpent’s with matching bruised knuckles split at the seams with a gun tucked into his waistband. His face portrayed a confidence that stirred something primal in Betty’s gut and caused her thighs to involuntarily squeeze together at the sight of him. His walk was more of a swagger, the thud of his combat boots vibrating against the worn wood of the bar and the green embroidered snake more evident than ever from the light shining above.

“Jug!” Betty exclaimed, running up to the taller boy and throwing her arms around his neck, which because of their height difference almost left her dangling on her tippy toes.

Jughead quickly wraps his arms around her narrow waist, using his defined muscles to hold her up and lean her back after a moment so he was looking into her eyes.

“I thought you would still be upstairs,” he says, eyes flicking to her split lip and darkening bruises, only more prominent when free of makeup and under the harsh tavern lighting.

“You thought I wouldn’t come looking for you?” The blonde asks, raising an eyebrow almost daring him to disagree.

“Well, no, I just-” the tattooed man pauses, finally noticing the black Serpent sweater draped over her slight figure. “Is that my hoodie?” he asks, the corner of his lip twitching upwards and something possessive stirring lower.

“Yeah,” Betty replies, fingers grasping the end of the sleeve and tugging it over her palm “It’s cozy, I hope you don’t mind.”

“Hell no, you look better than I ever did in it.”

“I doubt that you’re pretty handsome,” Betty teases, eyes dropping to the low angle of his jeans and admiring the sliver of skin exposed.

“True,” he muses, like he’s debating on what to say next “but you’re fucking adorable.”

“Are you going to introduce us or what, Jones?” a boy, even taller than Jughead, with a neck tattoo asks his voice light and teasing.

Jughead spins where he stands, pulling Betty with him and twirling her into his side and securing her against him with his arm once he is facing the other Serpent’s.

“Guys, this is Betty, my girlfriend,” the Serpent leader starts, a softness creeping into his tone as he introduced the blonde. “Betty, this is Sweet Pea, Joaquin, and Fangs.”

The first thing Betty noticed was not their matching jackets or the scars and bruises littering their features, it was their wide smiles that somehow reminded her of a childlike innocence.

“It’s really great to meet you all,” she says after a beat, extending her hand towards the trio.

Joaquin is the first to stick his hand out and meet hers. He doesn’t stare at her bruises or point out her scarred palms, even though she knows he saw them and instead greets her as a friend with a nod.

“It’s nice to finally meet the girl Jughead won’t shut up about,” he grins, voice smooth and eyes twinkling.

At this, the other two Serpent man howl with laughter and only seem to laugh louder when Jughead glares at them to cut it out. Although he was their leader he was their friend first and they knew when they could tease and push the boundaries versus when they couldn’t.

“Very funny, Joaquin,” Jughead growls, not an ounce of real anger in his tone.

“It’s true,” Sweet Pea pipes up, sidestepping Joaquin so his full figure comes into Betty’s line of sight. “He’s like a damn cartoon character when he talks about you, hearts in his eyes and all.”

Betty coos at this, loving that Jughead talks to his friends about her “Awww, Juggie.”

“Don’t worry, Jones,” comes a feminine voice from the same direction of the bar “she does the exact same thing.”

“Toni!” Betty gasps, heat tinting her cheeks.

“What?” the pink haired bartender asks, quirking a brow in question as she reaches the group “Was it supposed to be a secret because if it was you’re doing a shit job a keeping it.”

There’s a silent beat, where Jughead and the other male Serpent’s fear Betty is going to be upset by Toni’s bluntness. The five of them, having grown up together were used to each other's quirks, like Jughead’s self-deprecating ways, Toni’s blunt and often ruthless attitude, Sweet Pea’s temper, and Fang's quiet nature. Betty, however, to their knowledge was not aware of Toni’s style of communication.

However, instead of tears or an angry yelling match, Betty barked out a laugh, before tossing her head back and clinging to her side.

“You’re too funny Toni,” she says, once her laughter has faded to a dull roar.

Neither of the girls notices it but a collective sigh and release of tension rippled through the group from all its male members.

“Are you two best buddies or something now?” Jug asks, slightly sarcastic but also hoping they were.

“We got to know each other while I was trying to figure out where you went,” Betty explains, turning towards Toni.

Toni nods in agreement before adding: “And you picked a good one Jug, she’s pretty great.”

“Yeah,” he hums happily, looking down at her with all the love he felt was too early to say. “She is.” He agrees, planting a kiss on her head.

Jughead wouldn’t say it, but he was incredibly happy. The two most important women in his life were friends, his beautiful girlfriend was safe and in his arms, and his friends were by his side. What could go wrong?

“So, Jug,” Betty starts, pulling out of his hold lightly and facing him with her hands now placed on her hips. “Where were you? Toni wouldn’t give up the details.”

Jughead’s eyes flicker to Toni’s for a moment, as a silent thank you before returning to Betty’s.

“Let me show you.”

Jughead reaches for her hand, his palm up and open waiting for her to grasp his much rougher and tarnished palm. Without hesitation Betty interlocks their fingers, vaguely aware that his scars are now meshing with hers, their imperfections only bringing them closer.

“I have a surprise for you,” he explains, smiling wide with excitement as he gently pulls her outside. “Which would have been much more of a surprise if you didn’t go all Nancy Drew on my ass,” Jug continues, smile tugging into a playful smirk.

“Hey!” Betty defends, “You didn’t leave a note or a text or anything, girlfriend duties state I must investigate.”

“Well if girlfriend duties say so…” he trails off once they walk outside, gesturing to a van she doesn’t recognize flanked by the numerous bikes.

“What’s this?”

“It’s all your stuff Betty, I went and got it today, me and the boys.”

“Jug…” Betty starts, unable to put her gratitude into words.

“And I made sure your mother won’t be bothering you ever again,” the Serpent leader adds, voice hard and final. The other Serpents surrounding them nod, murmuring affirmations in reply. They wanted the blonde to know she was safe, she was one of them now after all.

“Thank you, Juggie, so much,” she expresses, sincerity clinging to her words “and thank you, Sweet Pea, Joaquin, Fangs, all you guys. It really means a lot to me.”

The other Serpent’s nod, the concept of sincere thanks almost making them squirm, but in a good way. A way that they could quickly become used to.

“I know it’s just stuff, but it’s yours. I want you to be comfortable here and have everything you need,” Jughead explains, squeezing her smaller hand in his.

“You’re everything I need, Juggie,” Betty whispers softly, looking up at the taller boy and adding “but all this is pretty great too.”

“Welcome home, Betts,” Jug mumbles softly, for only her to hear before pulling her into a sweet yet passionate kiss that told her just how loved she really was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone loved that and congratulations on making it through that giant chapter. What did you guys think of dark Jughead? Do you think Betty is going to confront him about it? Also, I loved having Toni and Betty meet so expect more of that! In the chapters to come expect a little Kevin/Joaquin as well as a little back story on Joaquin. Let me know in the comments what you thought, they mean the world to me.


	11. A Million Shirley Temples

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone! Sorry, it has been awhile, I was in the middle of finals weeks and was overloading with everything. Now that I'm a bit more on track and have some free time I finally got some writing done. I hope you guys like this chapter, let me know what you think in the comments below!
> 
> Warning: This chapter contains descriptions of an eating disorder, vomiting, and body image issues

The Whyte Wyrm looked the same as any other night: rowdy bikers drinking amber liquids and listening to loud music, lanky boys with leather jackets much too big and worn with the history of the Serpents draped over their shoulders, women surrounding pool tables with lit cigarettes between their tinted lips, and Betty Cooper seated at the bar next to Jughead Jones.

 The ponytailed girl had become a fixture in the tavern, her pink sweaters, peter pan collars, and white jeans contrasting against the dark leather and faded wood in the room, but also, somehow, complimenting it. Although she should stand out in the sea of Serpents, she didn’t, especially with Jughead’s arm hanging over her shoulder, his fingers playing with the strands of gold when he spoke. But even when Jughead was absent from Betty’s side she fit in with the others, she held her chin up high and exuded an air of confidence that they respected.

Respect wasn’t something the Serpent’s gave lightly and it was a great honour to receive this from one, let alone many. Sometimes Betty thinks they only tolerate her because of Jughead, their leader, who she just happened to have wrapped around her finger. But then she’ll see the way Toni looks at her or the tone of Sweet Pea’s voice when he talks about her and she knows they respect her, not just who she is to Jughead.  She knows Jughead told them about her mother and maybe that’s what she see’s in their eyes and hears in the tremor of their voices, the understanding and respect from one abused kid to another. Or maybe they have just seen too much shit and they know what that can do to you; how it can harden your soul and crush your spirit, sucking the life and goodness out of you till you’re nothing but an empty shell of who you used to be. Betty thinks maybe that’s why they respect her because despite everything she hasn’t let it crush her. She’s broken, she knows that even though Jughead tells her she’s not, but she’s still Betty.

This night, a Friday to be exact, Betty was sipping her third shirley temple and Jughead was nursing his second beer.

“I love that you drink those,” Toni says, popping a maraschino cherry into her mouth and motion to Betty’s decorated drink with a painted fingernail.

“They are delicious,” Betty explains, sipping the red liquid and enjoying the sweet flavour exploding on her tongue. “I bet it’s nice to make something besides rum and coke and straight up liquor too.” The blonde laughs, nudging Jughead with her elbow teasingly.

“I’m not drinking one of those girly pink drinks,” Jughead defends and takes a pull from his beer as if to punctuate his point.

“You would like it if you just tried it, Juggie,” Betty reasons, sliding over the curved glass to him.

“I think I would get kicked out of the Serpents if I even took a sip of that thing.”

“Come oooon,” Betty pleads, batting her thick lashes at him.

Jughead groans, like this, physically pains him, but nonetheless reaches for her drink and takes a small sip.

The click of a camera goes off, causing Jughead to snap his head towards the noise.

“Toni,” he warns, his voice dropping an octave.

Toni, unaffected by his change of voice only cackles in response. “I’m sending this to everyone.”

“Antoinette,” he warns, using her full name as he rises from the leather stool.

“For-” Toni starts, only to be cut off by Jughead’s stern voice.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” he growls, eyebrows pinched and pointed downwards in anger.

“Alright, sorry Jug,” Toni apologizes, clearly realizing she’s crossed a line.

He nods and takes his seat next to Betty. Betty reached for Jughead’s hand on top of the bar, intertwining their fingers and squeezing them reassuringly.

Toni watches, observing Jughead with her was like seeing another side to the brass boy she grew up with. He was softer, not dull, just gentle and real in a way she could only describe as someone who was madly in love. She watches his posture loosen when Betty grasps his larger hand in her smaller one, the way the lines of his face soften, and his lips turn up in the corners. It’s almost like the pair was silently communicating in a language all of their own. It’s beautiful, the pink haired girl concludes, smiling to herself at the couple. The slight anger that had begun to twinge his demeanor had evaporated and the moment had passed.

“Did you like it?” Betty asks, breaking the silence that had fallen over them.

“It wasn’t as bad as I thought,” the biker confesses after a beat.

“You loved it!” Betty accuses, almost jumping up from her seat in excitement.

“Calm down, I never said that.”

Jughead is still holding on to her hand, firmly seated on his stool while Betty bounces in hers. He is turned so he’s facing her, one boot resting on the metal bar of the stool while the other is kicked forward into Betty’s personal space. He’s smiling at her in a way Toni has never seen before, it’s soft and dazed, almost like Betty’s existence was too good to be true and that he would drink a million more shirley temples if only to make her happy.

“But I know you and that’s exactly what you’re thinking!” Betty squeals, the excitement spilling into her limbs as she spins in the stool, letting her skirt fan out around her and her ponytail whip over her shoulder but never letting go of Jughead’s hand.

“Yeah, yeah,” the boy waves off, unable to keep the beaming smile off his face.

“What are your guy's plans for the night?” Toni asks, speaking for the first time since his explosion.

The Serpent looks at Betty, the way a husband would to confirm plans with his wife before looking back at Toni.

“I think we’re just staying in, maybe-”

“Jug, I wanna do something else this weekend,” Betty pouts like he wouldn’t already agree to whatever she says.

“Like?” he asks, running his thumb over the back of her knuckles.

“Can I invite some friends from school over to hang out?”

“You don’t have to ask, Betts, you live here too.”

Betty smiles at this, he was doing everything in his power to make her comfortable and feel at home and it was working.

“I’ll text them,” Betty says, pulling her phone out quickly.

_Hey, V, want to come over to the Whyte Wyrm? Jug and I are bored_

It only takes a few minutes for a reply to come through: **uh, YES! I’m there. Can I bring our other fabulous friends?**

_Of course, Jug is fine with whatever, but don’t bring too many people, just the inner circle_

**Roger that, B, ETA 1 hour**

“They’ll be here in an hour, I have to get ready!” Betty gets up quickly, her yellow flats hitting the worn wood with a _thwack_.

“You look great as it is, Betts,” Jughead says, pulling the blonde in between his legs by their joined hands and resting his other on the dip in her lower back.

“I’m wearing my school clothes, I want to dress up and look cute.”

“You always look cute.” He says it as a fact with no room for argument.

“I’ll be back down before you know it,” she promises, placing a chaste kiss on his lips before pulling out of his hold and skipping upstairs to their apartment.

Jughead sighs softly, already missing her touch and presence that was by his side more and more lately.

“Oh, stop it, you lovesick fool, she’ll be back soon,” Toni teases her voice anything but bitter.

“Not soon enough,” Jughead mutters, taking a sip of his beer and spinning towards the bartender.

“What was that?”

“Don’t tell her my name, okay?” Jughead begins, his demeanor shifting from carefree to serious in an instant.

“Why not?”

“Because I’m Jughead, Forsythe is a completely different person who I never want to be again and I never want her to meet him either.” Jughead’s voice is hard and final when he says this so Toni only nods in response.

She remembers what Jughead was like when he was younger and how much he has changed since then. She doesn’t blame him for wanting to forget that part of himself, she wants to do the same.

Upstairs Betty stood in her underwear, a pale green set that accented her eyes and illuminated her pale flesh. The mirror in front of her showed a beautiful girl, with a cascade of blonde over her shoulder and hooded jade eyes that you could get lost in. But it also showed someone who was scarred. The bruises on her face had mostly healed but the ones on her body remained. They too were green, with tinges of yellow, that Betty thought, ironically matched her undergarments.

The blonde turned to the side in the mirror, frowning at what she saw: a stomach that bulged out much too far, thick thighs that almost seemed to turn to liquid and pool together when she sat, wide hips that flared out in the most unflattering way, and a deep curve of a behind that she hated.

What Betty saw, however, was distorted by time and abuse and in fact was entirely different from the real thing. Her stomach was flat, her curves slowly disappearing, and legs ever narrowing. If she turned the right way you could count her ribs or see the outline of her spine almost threatening to rip through the skin. But she doesn’t see any of this, her mother’s words and her own thoughts harboring her vision to the point where she couldn’t decipher reality from the poisonous fiction she was told.

Betty shakes her head, hoping somehow this will discard all the thoughts racing through her mind. She pulls on a fitted white dress with yellow, pink, and blue flowers and matching greenery adorning it over her head. The dress looks lovely, even on her much too small frame; it flares out at the waist and goes down to just below her knee effectively adding the illusion of curves that were once there. She adds a blue cardigan and changes into a pair of light brown ankle boots to complete the look.

She’s starring in the mirror once again, criticizing every curve and degree of her body on a microscopic scale. She wants to change, at least three more times, but she’s been up here too long and Veronica will be there soon. As a last thought, she pulls the rubber band securing her hair up out, letting the blonde locks tumble over her shoulder in natural waves and ignoring the itch of her palms she makes her way back downstairs.

“There she is!” Jughead calls, seeing the beautiful blonde descend the stairs and make her way towards him. He is surrounded by her fellow classmates: Veronica, Kevin, and Archie.

“Hey, guys, sorry I took so long.” Betty apologizes, once she’s close enough to the group.

“No need to be sorry,” Kevin pipes up, eyes lingering on Joaquin from across the bar.

Veronica nudges him, but she too sends an appreciative glance towards the Serpent who can’t seem to take his eyes off the Keller boy.

Jughead pulls Betty into his side once she’s close enough to touch and presses his lips against her temple “You look beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice low and sincere in her ears. “I love when your hair is down like this.”

She blushes at this and makes eye contact with a swooning Veronica who can’t get enough of the couple.

“You two are-” Veronica begins only to be cut off by Betty.

“Don’t start, V.”

“Fine,” the pearl-adorned girl concedes, hands in the air in mock surrender. “Shall we get some drinks?” she continues, a wicked grin appearing on her dark lips.

Toni takes the opportunity to pipe in at this point, “I would love to. What can I get you, gorgeous?”

Veronica, always one to bathe in the attention of others and at times even encourage it, blossoms under her compliment, despite her boyfriend by her side and orders a round of shots for the group.

“Are you trying to get me drunk?” Betty jokes but a touch of seriousness is colouring her tone.

“Of course, I am, you need to loosen up,” Veronica explains, sliding the poured shots to everyone.

Betty grasps the shot between her fingers, nervous energy tickling her nerve endings, she had never drank that much before; even if she wanted to her mother wouldn’t let her.

“I’ll drink it for you if you want; no one is going to make you do anything you don’t want to do,” Jughead whispers to her, his voice one of understanding and free of judgment.

“No,” the teen concludes after thinking it over “I want to.” And without waiting for a reply she downs the shot in one gulp, her face screwing up as the harsh liquid burns down her throat.

“Yessss, Betty” Kevin whoops, as hollers erupt from their classmates.

“Cheers!” Veronica calls, raising her shot glass and signaling the others to do the same.

“Cheers,” Archie echoes, swallowing the clear liquid in suit with the others.

“Can you North Side brats keep it down?” a gruff voice comes from the other side of the bar.

“Um, excuse me?” Veronica replies, threatening him to challenge her as she swivels on her heel to face him, a manicured hand on her hip.

“I said can you keep it the fuck down?” the older man, with a bushy beard and eyebrows too thick for his face begins, standing and pushing his stool back causing the metal legs to scratch painfully loud against the floor below. “You little rich kids think you can come down here in _my_ bar and drink _my_ booze, well you can’t. You’re mouthy little fucks and I’m sick of your kind thinking you own everything because you don’t.”

By now he was face to face with Veronica and only a few inches from the fiery young women. The anger was evident in the younger girl and Archie was reaching toward her thin lace covered arm to pull her back, afraid of the trouble her mouth could get her into.

“Veronica…” Archie said, chewing his lip nervously. The last thing they needed was to be on the bad side of a hefty biker.

“I got this Archie,” she replies, gaze unwavering from the taller man,

“Oh, you got this?” the bearded man taunts, his voice taking on a condescending edge. “A little thing like you doesn’t have shit.”

“Hey!” Betty pipes up, releasing herself from Jughead’s arms and moving to stand beside her friend.

“And you,” the man starts, sneering at the petite girl.

“Watch yourself,” Jug growls, his eyes narrowing dangerously as the only warning he will give.

The man pauses for a moment, uncomfortable under his threatening gaze before redirecting his anger to the brunette. He was drunk but he wasn’t stupid, you don’t mess with Jughead Jones.

“Listen,” Betty starts, inserting herself slightly in front of Veronica “I get your mad but these are my friends and this is my home. Last time I checked this isn’t your bar and this isn’t your booze, it’s Jughead’s. He wants me here and I want them here and if you don’t like it you can get the fuck out.” The blonde finished by crossing her arms over her chest and tilting her chin up stubbornly, she was sick of being pushed around. Her right eyebrow was raised as a dare, a clear warning that no matter how hard he pushed she would push back. She wasn’t afraid, she had her friends and Jughead here to back her up. She wasn’t alone anymore.

Jughead, who stood back from the scene and observed it was proud of Betty. He knew it was hard for her to find the strength in herself but he also knew that no matter what she would stick up for her friends. In the short time, they had known one another he had seen her grow into herself, this past week alone away from her sorry excuse from a mother had already helped her so much. He could feel his heart swelling with pride and admiration whenever he looked at her.

“That’s my girl,” he mumbles, smirking at the shocked look on the man's face.

He decides he’s stood back long enough and makes his way towards the two girls. He stands beside Betty and slings his arm over her shoulder to hold her close.

“You heard her get the fuck out,” Jughead snarls, his upper lip curling. He would always protect what was his.

Finally, the older man concedes and stumbles out of the bar on alcohol ridden limbs.

“Could you be any more badass?” asks Kevin, once again in awe of the young women. She never ceased to amaze him.

“I’m sure Jug could teach me a few things,” Betty giggles, patting his chest with her hand and letting it linger on the leather for a minute before letting it fall to her side.

“And maybe I could learn a thing or two from you, damn girl” Jug grins, turning them both towards their friends.

“Thanks, Betty, I didn’t want Veronica to end up in even more trouble than she already was,” Archie expresses, his sincerity clear and real.

“I could handle myself,” Veronica pipes in, not liking the thought of being considered a damsel.

“I never said you couldn’t,” Archie backpedals, trying to save himself from the being on the bad side of a Lodge.

“Damn right,” Veronica assures with a firm nod then downs another shot and motions for more from Toni.

A couple of hours pass, these hours are filled with drinks and laughter, music and dancing, and pool games that Jughead can’t help but win. At this point, it had been over two hours since Jughead had eaten, which for any Jones was much too long, so fifteen minutes later when two large pepperoni pizzas, one vegetarian, and a couple pounds of wings showed up no one was really surprised.

The group of teens and Serpents, fuelled by alcohol and pounding music drumming in their ears had all dug into the food, except one particular blonde. She stood back from the group, feeling an uncomfortable gnawing in her stomach and a little voice whisper in the back of her mind.

“Aren’t you gonna eat?” Jughead asks, his mouth full of pizza.

“Uh, yeah. Of course,” Betty replies, hesitantly reaching for a small slice of veggie covered pizza.

Jughead smiles at her oblivious to her hesitation with cheeks puffed full of food.

Betty takes a few bites of the food, chewing it slowly and then swallowing. Each bite seems to feel thicker like she’s trying to chew through a tire and when she swallows it leaves an uncomfortable lump in her throat and a weight in her stomach. The smell of grease and pepperoni is causing her stomach to flip and turn like she was on a never-ending rollercoaster.

She notices when reaching for a plastic cup of water on the table that her hands had begun to shake. She quickly tucks the hand back against her side, hoping no one notices, but she can’t seem to stop the tremors that are now racking her body. The pizza feels heavy in her hands, almost like the weight of it might cause her to tip over in the spinning room. The blonde can feel a sticky, dampness pooling at the back of her neck and suddenly she jolts forward almost dropping the slice.

“I’ll be right back,” she manages to choke out before darting around her friends and into the closest bathroom.

The door slams behind her loudly and she runs to the toilet before emptying the contents of her stomach into the porcelain bowl. Betty heaves over the toilet, choking on the air in her lungs but simultaneously gasping for more. Finally, it subsides and Betty slides onto the ground, her arm stretching out in front of her to rest on the seat and her head resting against her arm. The bathroom tile is so cold under her that she can feel it through her sweat-drenched clothes. The sickening smell of acid fills her nostrils till she can’t help but gag and she worries it might start all over again. She couldn’t stop the vomit that spilled from her lips or control any of the actions after she ate. It left her throat burning and eyes watering in a way that she hated.

“God,” she whispered, her voice raw “What’s wrong with me?”

Defeated, Betty closes her eyes wishing for once that things could be simple and only when she feels something wet hit her arm does she realize she is crying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did everyone think? Sorry if I grossed you out with the vomit but I wanted this to be real, not sugar-coated. In the next chapter, we will have some heavy Bughead and more Kevin/Joaquin! Comment down below what you thought!


	12. To Spare Her Skin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone! I'm sorry it's been a bit but I was having a case of writer's block, I was struggling on how to articulate Betty's issues. I hope I capture it well. This chapter made me cry while I was writing it so I hope everyone likes it and can see the true emotions I put into it.
> 
> I also wanted to thank you guys for getting us to 200 kudos and over 100 comments, that means the world to me. I love writing and one day want to become an author so your words and praise help me see that I'm doing something right. I didn't think this story would be so popular or well-liked, especially since it started as a one-shot, but I'm so happy that it is.
> 
> Warning: Discussion of eating disorders and depictions of self-harm with mentions of blood

Jughead couldn’t help but notice the way the lights of the bar seemed to dim once Betty’s presence left his side, it was beginning to be a reoccurring theme. When she wasn’t in the room the world seemed to be dull and dim, blurred at the edges. But when she was there it was magnificent, a contrast of bright colours and contoured edges with detailed lines. It was like he was gifted with better than perfect vision and could suddenly see everything the world had to offer. Bad things didn’t seem so bad and good things seemed a million times better.

So, you can bet your ass he noticed when she was gone for fifteen minutes.

“Where did Betty go?” Jughead asks, eyes skimming the other patrons of the bar for any sight of his blonde-haired beauty.

“She ducked off to the bathroom a bit ago that was the last I saw of her,” Toni answers, noticing the furrowed brow on her leader’s face.

Jughead’s mouth pulls down in the corners at this and before his pink underling can utter words of reassurance he spins on his heel and makes his way towards the bathroom. Confident strides and a determined look on his face are enough to clear a pathway through the bar, not to mention the looming title of leader that always seems to dangle above his head, sometimes aiding him while other times only making things worse.

The lean boy stops short outside the door, as he’s faced with the worn wood he knows it’s occupied, as it was normally open with a dimming light dangling from the ceiling above.

“Betty?” he asks, leaning to press his ear to the door an anxious knot tying in his gut.

He couldn’t hear anything behind the splintering door, albeit the music or a lack of a reply completely he wasn’t sure, so he knocked, calling out to the blonde once again.

“Betty, if you can hear me open the door,” he said, his voice raising and pinching slightly in panic. He wasn’t sure why but he knew something was wrong, be it the resounding silence from the girl on the other side of the door or a hunch he felt deep in his gut he couldn’t be sure.

When she remained silent once again he reached down to the doorknob, only to find it locked.

“Betty, goddammit!” The beanie-wearing boy cursed, before stepping back and raising a boot-clad foot to the door. The door was no match for Jughead and the old wood splintered and cracked under the heel of his strapped boots. The door swung open and reverberated against the wallpaper walls that were curled and browned with age, the sound painfully loud to Jughead but falling on deaf ears around him.

What Jughead saw next made his heart stop. Betty, his beautiful Betty who radiated her own sunlight, lay still on the floor, sweat sticking to her much too pale skin. All forms of light and hope that the blonde emitted were vacant from the room, leaving a cold an empty feeling that he could feel through his skin and in everything that he was. And for one terrifying moment, that he would give everything to never feel again, he thought she was dead.

“Betty!” He yelled, his voice shaking and reaching an unnaturally high octave. The Serpent quickly rushed to her side, dropping to his knees and taking a cold, clammy hand in his. The bones of his knees made an uncomfortably loud sound when the hit the cool tile; the kind of sound that causes a shiver to course through your body and your hair stand on end. It was loud and brutal and harsh.

At this Betty, opened her eyes, meeting Jughead’s watery blue ones.

“Hi, Jug,” she murmured, her voice cracking on his name.

Jughead, unconsciously, breathed a sigh of relief; he never thought his name could sound so good.

“Hey, you,” he replies, pushing back a strand of hair stuck to her forehead, hoping she doesn’t notice the shaking of his fingers. “You feeling okay?”

“I’ve been better.”

“Yeah, I bet, what happened?” He asks, almost afraid of the answer.

“I don’t know,” the blonde whimpers, moving to sit up with Jughead’s help. “After eating the pizza, I just felt so dizzy and sick, then suddenly I was throwing up.” Her cheeks tint slightly at this confession, embarrassed at having to admit she was sick, even though she was sure Jughead wouldn’t care.

Jughead swallowed, ignoring the growing lump in his throat.

“Betts,” he starts, struggling to find the right words. “Did you…” He trails off, his voice dying in his throat at the thought of what he was going to ask “Did you throw up on purpose?” He finally finishes, hating the idea but having to ask. His heart ached at the thought of his beautiful girlfriend doing such a thing but he couldn’t deny the possibility of it.

“What?” Betty gasps, retracting from his hold until her back was against the peeling wallpaper and a visible space was between them.

“Betty, ever since I’ve met you, you’ve had a problem with food. I just wanna make sure you’re okay, that’s all I’ve ever wanted.” Jughead spoke, his voice gentle but firm as he reached towards the trembling blonde.

At his words, the younger of the two couldn’t help but curl her fingers inwards until she felt the familiar sting in her palms.

“I didn’t mean to do it Jug, it just happened,” she pauses, looking up at her boyfriend with a wobbly bottom lip. “You believe me, don’t you?”

“Of course, I do, Betts,” the older boy reassures, finally grasping her smaller hands in his once again, if only to prevent further crescent wounds. “I just think...that maybe even though you didn’t mean to, some part of you did.”

Betty, despite how strong she was, couldn’t help the onslaught of tears that had begun to stream down her face at this point. Her breathing had picked up its pace, coming out in uneven pants till the whoosh of air could be felt against Jughead’s cheek.

“Hey,” Jughead began, sliding the blonde into his lap and wrapping his arms around her but keeping his fingers laced in hers “it’s okay, take a deep breath, it’s okay.”

“I-it’s not Jughead! God, what the hell is wrong with me?” Betty’s voice had taken on a tone he couldn’t recognize, one of hysteria and panic that was ebbing to the point of uncontrollable. She was struggling to catch her breath; each gulp of air being spaced closer and closer together till she was hyperventilating.

“Nothing is wrong with you, Betts,” Jughead promises, rocking the blonde in his arms in an attempt to soothe her cries and worries. He too was scared, but right now he had to be strong for Betty, for both of them.

“T-then why am I like this?” Betty asks, her voice choked and getting lost somewhere in her breathy cries.

“You’re sick, baby,” he says, voice low and soft as he whispers reassurances in her ear. “But I’m not giving up on you, you got that?” He squeezes her hand at this, somehow hoping that everything he is feeling is transmitted from him to her.

“I’m crazy!” She cries, her voice so loud that it splinters and hurts his ears. 

Betty couldn’t hold it in anymore, it seemed that no matter what she did or where she was something in her life was going to cause her pain, that she would always be hurting. The blonde was beginning to think she was at fault, the own root of all her heartache and misery, after all, she was the one constant in all of this. And she finally snapped.

The green-eyed girl curled in on herself, jerky movements causing her to knee herself in the face despite Jughead’s efforts to prevent it. But to her, it was almost like Jughead wasn’t there, like she was alone in the closet of her house once again; the light moved around her like a black hole swirling to infinity as her vision began to tunnel. Her breathing had become erratic and the dizziness had returned till her surroundings had begun to spin and blur around her in a mash of indistinguishable colours. The swirling only made her stomach churn once again, so she closed her eyes praying for it all to stop, for it to be over. Her fingers had curled tightly into Jughead’s skin, leaving half moons on the backs of his hands that glowed red. But Jughead didn’t mind, better his flesh than hers. He was sure it would scar, but he would bare her scars to spare her skin.

And in the midst of the panic and gut-wrenching terror that she felt, she heard a faint voice whispering to her through the fog.

“Shhh Betts, it’s okay I got you” the voice murmured sweetly. Somehow, despite the swirling surroundings and heavy panic, that helped.

Jughead hated seeing her like this, it physically hurt; he could feel his heart squeeze in his chest and a dull throb in his head that hurt a million times worse than any crescent moons. He didn’t know how to help, how to make it stop. But, he did all that he could: he stayed by her side, whispering sweet words in her ear.

“Just match my breathing, okay?” He instructed, breathing in and out slowly. “I know you can do it, Bett’s.”

Eventually, not soon enough, but eventually, her breathing had begun to even out and her fingers uncurled from his skin.

“Feeling okay, Betts’?” Jughead asks, running his fingers through her hair once his hand was free.

“Better,” she finally chokes out, her voice raw with emotions.

“You’ll be okay, I’ll make sure of it.” Jug promises, kissing her temple and pulling her against him tightly but gently. “What can I do for you, how can I help?”

The teen sniffles, wiping her nose with the back of her hand and letting out a shuttering breath “Can you get Kev?” She asks, in need of her best friend.

“Of course. I’ll have to leave you for a minute though, will you be okay?” Jughead wasn’t sure if he was asking more for him or her.

“I’ll be okay,” she confirms, not sure if she’s telling the truth or not.

Jughead lifts her off his lap and carefully sets her back on the ground. He stands but can’t help the slight buckle of his knees under his sudden weight. His legs had gone numb and tingly from sitting on the ground and the sudden movement had cause pinpricks of pain once the blood has rushed to his extremities. He reaches out his arm to stabilize himself against the peeling walls and only then does he notice the red oozing from his hands. He doesn’t make much of it, especially in front of Betty, and simply kisses her head with the promise of returning shortly before exiting, wiping the back of his hands on his jeans as he goes.

He searches the bar with his eyes for the brunette and is somewhat surprised to find him curled up under Joaquin’s arm in a dark corner. Jughead can’t quite tell, between the dim lights and dark shadows, but he thinks he sees them locking lips, mouths moving in a synchronized tandem as the beat of a nameless song vibrates through the speakers energizing the crowd. Although he doesn’t want to interrupt the pair, both because Joaquin has been complaining about ‘no hot guys down here’ (casually adding, ‘no offence, Sweet Pea’ when the other Serpent’s face screwed up in annoyance) and because things seemed to be taking a turn for the hot and heavy when he saw Joaquin’s hand slid into the back of Kevin’s pants when he approached.

“Uh, sorry to interrupt,” Jughead apologizes, voice louder than normal to offset the loud music and blanket of lust.

Joaquin pulls away first, knowing something important must be going on otherwise Jughead wouldn’t have bothered them.

“What’s up?” the strong-jawed boy asks, his voice slightly huskier than normal and his lips swollen and wet.

“Actually,” Jug replied, facing Kevin. “I need you.”

“Me?” Kevin asks, the disbelief clear on his face as his eyes grow to saucers.

Joaquin too looks surprised, but the years of being a snake have taught him how to better hide his emotions.

“Is everything okay?” Joaquin asks, his voice serious and most of the huskiness gone as he tugs Kevin further into his side and his eyes sweep the bar for any impending threats.

“Everything is fine,” Jughead dismisses, not daring to share Betty’s state with anyone else besides Kevin. “Betty needs to talk to you.” Jughead’s voice changes with this sentence, ending on a final note with no room for argument.

Kevin can hear this in his voice, the absolute dominance and power, but he would be lying if he said he didn’t like it. Not just because it was hot, but because it meant that he really did care for Betty; that whatever he felt for her was serious and he would do whatever he could to make her happy. And although Kevin would give almost anything to continue his heavy petting session with a dreamy blue-eyed Serpent, he wouldn’t give up his friend, especially when she needed him most.

Kev nods, a couple strands of his otherwise gelled back hair falling into his eyes as he turns to his newfound friend.

“I’m sorry to do this, but she wouldn’t ask unless it was important.” Joaquin nods, and reluctantly let’s go of his waist. If anyone knew anything about loyalty it was a Serpent.

Jughead motions for Kevin to follow him and doesn’t wait for any sign that he’ll do so before he makes his way across the bar, not even sparing a glance back to make sure he is followed. Kev wonders if he’s like this with Betty but something tells him he’s not. He likes to think Joaquin would be the same with him, but he was getting ahead of himself. Before the towering Serpent can get lost in the crowd Kevin scurries after him, pausing and turning to say to a devilishly handsome Joaquin: “If I don’t see you again tonight you have my number, use it!” before he himself disappears into the crowd himself.

Kevin follows Jughead to outside a broken bathroom door, the hinges are bent and there is a crack in the frame but Kevin takes note that whoever opened the door, as brutally as it was, took the time and care to close it as best they could.

“Is she in there?” Kevin asks if only to fill the silence as he can guess as much.

Jughead nods and pulls Kevin slightly away from the gapping wood.

“Listen, Kevin,” he starts voice low but serious, the light hold he has on the younger boys arm remaining as he speaks “I don’t know how much you know about Betty but she’s struggling. I don’t know how to help her but I’m trying my fucking hardest, I just don’t know if it’s actually working.” The older boys eyes cast downward like he’s ashamed of his efforts. But Kevin isn’t and his heart swells at the thought of a boy who could love this much and wonders what it would feel like on the receiving end.

The moment of vulnerability lasts only for a seconds before his striking blue eyes flicker back up, capturing Kevin’s “But she’s asking for you and if all I can do is get you to go in there and help…I have to. You’re her friend, probably her best friend and she needs you in a way that a boyfriend just…” Jughead pauses, the throbbing in his head growing in intensity at the thought but he ignores it and continues “in a way a boyfriend just can’t. So please, help her, Kevin.”

Kevin’s eyes soften and he even wants to hug the Serpent. There’s a tiredness about him like he’s live a thousand lives beyond his years and they are only reflected in the glimpse of a moment. His brows are pulled down and strained, like the words he speaks are physically hurting him. But, to Kevin anyway, it’s the eyes that give everything away. The Serpent leader that so many were afraid of was begging him for help because he loved that girl more than words could express.

“I’ll do everything I can,” Kevin starts, only to see a wary glance from Jughead in return. “I promise, Jughead,” he adds, cementing his point with the jut of his chin as he makes his way to the bathroom door. Kevin can’t help but notice some of the tension drain from the older man’s body as it sags in relief in response to his words and he begins to wonder if the people on the Southside, like Joaquin and Jughead, are as bad as everyone says, or maybe, if the Northside is where real evil is after all.

Kevin walks into the bathroom, unsure of what he is going to be faced with but a feeling of uncertainty is coiled deep in his stomach. His worst fears are confirmed when the all too familiar smell of acidic stomach contents assaults his senses.

“Oh Betty,” the sweater-wearing boy says, a sudden frown on his face as he slides down beside the misty-eyed girl. “How long?” He asks, piecing together the all too familiar signs.

Betty hesitates for a moment before whispering her reply: “As long as I can remember my mom has been telling me what to eat and how to look, even when I was a kid, Kev. I guess somewhere along the lines I started listening to everything she said and I became as paranoid about my body as she was. Image is everything to her and if I’m not absolutely… p-perfect than I’m nothing. And now, I don’t know how to think differently…how to believe I’m not nothing.” Her voice trails off at the end like she’s ashamed of the confession and she wants to seep into the aged wallpaper behind her and disappear. Kevin thinks maybe she’s wanted to disappear for a very long time, but he won’t let that happen.

His heart aches at her confession, hating the way he knows exactly how she feels.

“My first time was when I was twelve,” Kevin whispers, noticing but not acknowledging the surprise and confusion on the smaller girls face. “It was the day after Thanksgiving and I ate an entire pumpkin pie, a giant bowl of stuffing, three turkey sandwiches, and about half of the god damn sweet potato casserole.”

“Kev,” Betty croaks, hoping that the meaning is clear; that he doesn’t have to go on if he doesn’t want to because she knows exactly how hard it is.

He simply shakes his head, reaching for her clammy hand as he continues with his story. “So, after I ate all that food I kind of spiraled, I was a chubby kid, to begin with, and that food wasn’t going to help, but I thought throwing up would.”

“Oh, Kevin,” Betty sniffled, squeezing the other boys hand reassuringly. “I’m so sorry.”

Kevin smiled at her, she really was as sweet as she looked. “I’m not telling you this to make you feel sorry for me,” he pauses, to look her in the eyes a serious expression on his face that she has never seen before. “I’m telling you this because this is how it all starts,” he explains, arm spanning out to gesture around the bathroom “It took me years to be healthy again, to be able to eat like a normal person again. It took months upon months of therapy and working on myself and I still have problems with it, because it never really goes away. But, Betty, it does get better, but only if you want it to.”

Betty eyes water at this, the green pools returning as a single tear spills onto her cheek; she didn’t have to say a word and he knew.

“I knew you’d understand,” she rasped, pulling the fair skinned boy into a tight hug.

Unable to think of anything right to say, Kevin simply hugs her back and hopes that is enough.

Jughead, who was waiting outside the bathroom, couldn’t help but hear every word of what was said. He would deny it till the day he died, but he would be lying if he said he didn’t choke up a bit.  Listening to what Kevin had to say, as heartbreaking as it was, was something Jughead couldn’t help but be grateful for if anyone knew how to help it was him.

After a few minutes, once Betty, and admittedly Kevin had calmed down the boy retracted from their embrace but kept his arm around her for support.

“Betty, you need help. I don’t want to sound harsh but this can’t go on forever, I would know. It can turn deadly, fast.”

Betty doesn’t say anything for a minute and Kevin is afraid that he’s scared her off completely until she whispers a quiet but firm: “I know, I just don’t know how.”

“My therapist, she was good…I can give you her number.” Kevin offers, hoping she will take it.

“I-I don’t know Kev,” the blonde trails off, suddenly afraid and unsure of the prospect of actually talking to someone.

“Betty, please. You can’t do this on your own,” Kevin begs.

Betty remains silent, not wanting to voice her disapproval at the idea.

“If not for yourself, then for Jughead,” Kevin proposes, knowing exactly how to make her do what needs to be done “All this shit is a lot for him to take on and that’s not your fault. But he loves you, I can see it, Betty, I may have never been in love but I know what it looks like and that boy is absolutely, madly in love with you and to have someone you love to be in this much pain, well, it’s kind of like you’re in that much pain too, ya know?” and although Kevin says he’s never been in love it sounds like he’s talking from experience and that makes Betty’s heart squeeze painfully in her chest.

“As much as he loves you I think you love him just as much; since I met you you’ve been talking about that boy like he’s your whole world and there’s this look on your face of pure and encapsulating love, it’s in your smiles and your eyes and in your entire body whenever you’re around him. I know you wouldn’t want him to feel how you feel, you wouldn’t want anyone to feel how you feel Betty, not even your worst enemy because you’re that kind of girl, so why are you doing this to yourself? It may seem impossible but take the word of someone who knows, it really does get better Betty, I fucking promise, but not if you don’t do something to make it better. You can’t just sit around and wish away the pain, it doesn’t work that way, you have to make it go away.” Kevin lets out a deep breath, like the sentence physically drained him but he doesn’t stop, not even when he sees the fear and hesitation in her eyes.

“And as scary as that all sounds, you’ve got me and Veronica and Joaquin and Archie…and Jughead, who would do absolutely anything for you. Even though you may feel completely and utterly alone, you’re not and even in the worst of times when you are, you still have you and sometimes, Betty, having yourself is the most important thing.” Kevin finishes, his voice watery but the words strong all the same.

And Betty, who listened to the entire thing with the drum of her heart racing in her ear, knew he was right. She couldn’t just hope for things to get better she had to work on it, to work on herself.

“Okay, Kev,” the shaky but determined girl replies “What’s her number?”

And Jughead, who was now admittedly in tears on the other side of the wall, couldn’t agree more with everything Kevin said, because god did he love that girl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did everyone think? I think this spin on Kevin's character does make sense, so I hope it doesn't seem too out of the blue. This was a very emotional chapter but I'm happy to see that Betty is finally addressing her issues and seeking help. I'm also beginning to think I'll need more than 15 chapters to tie up this story, what do you guys think? If so what are some other things you would like explored? Comment below any ideas and what you thought of this chapter.


	13. To Be Perfect

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone! I am so sorry it has been so long (you're probably sick of hearing that but I really am). I graduated from college 2 weeks ago and have a certification exam in July that I've been studying like crazy for. I also got a job a few days after I finished school in May at a hospital (yay me!) so between that and studying I haven't had much time to sit down and write. But tonight, thanks to comments and re-reading some of my work, I've become inspired and whipped another chapter that I hope you all will love. I will warn you that after this chapter it will be a little over a month until my next update as my exam is July 18th. That being said, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter it was nice to write again even if it took a minute to find my groove again. Leave a comment letting me know what you think as I love them!
> 
> Warning: Mentions of eating disorders and self-harm

The walls were a neutral khaki that complimented the leather lounging chairs that lined the walls of the waiting room. A mocha coffee table with month old magazines were covering the surface and a matching bookcase across the room filled the area. In a middle chair on the South wall sat Betty, mint green sweater on and half-buttoned despite the heat. Jughead sat beside her, his leather jacket folded over one of the arms of the chair, clad in a worn band t-shirt. Betty liked his shirts, they were authentic; a real kind of worn that only came from hand-me-downs and numerous wearings. Upon checking in with the receptionist, who had a gold-plated nametag reading _Rosalie_ , she was told that their air conditioning was out before the woman sent her an apologetic smile and offered to take her sweater in penance. Betty declined, despite the growing warmth spreading across her limbs and the sticky sweat that had taken stray hairs hostage on the back of her neck. Rosalie, a fellow blonde, _‘only much prettier’_ the teen couldn’t help but think, seemed surprised but told her to take a seat in one of the suffocatingly large chairs and that the doctor would be right with her. She wonder’s what Rosalie thinks is wrong with her. Maybe she thinks Betty has scars adorning her wrists and is too afraid to let them show, it’s not far from the truth she realizes but it was never something she could do. She was too much of a coward. Or maybe she thinks that Betty has sensory problems and the idea of something as simple as air touching her arms would feel more like it was peeling away the skin it brushed up against rather than cooling the heat that lingered there. Or maybe she doesn’t think anything of it at all.

The chair was much too large, almost comically so, the leather-covered arms came up to her breast and the seat cushioned threaten to swallow her whole when she sat. A little voice in her head says that maybe the chair isn’t that big and in fact, she is just that small, comically so, even.

Betty almost forgets that Jughead is beside her, was beside her this whole time, only remembering when his larger calloused hand squeezes her string-like fingers in a comforting embrace. She turns to look at him and feels the butterflies simultaneously settle and erupt, like a hurricane of wind and emotions mixing in the depth of her soul. Betty, having never been in love before, wonders if this is what all love is like; or if maybe they have something special and rare. It would make sense if they did, Betty thinks, because she’s not quite sure how someone could function, or live, or _be_ after a breakup if this is what all love is like. She doesn’t want to be one of those girls who is all about her boyfriend or who can’t live without him, but she’s afraid she is. In Betty’s defence, she was a lot of things she didn’t want to be.

Maybe that’s why she was here though, to learn to stand on her own two feet and instead of billowing and breaking at the slightest breeze like a frail and damage branch she could learn to stand the test of the strongest storm, powerful and resilient like an old Willow tree who has lived a thousand lives, each storm and break only making it stronger in the long run.

Betty wants to be strong, like Jughead or Kevin or Veronica, but she’s not. She can see their strength in the way they hold themselves and in the grit and determination in their actions and it’s something she has never seen in herself. They are all strong in different ways: Veronica has the kind of confidence that only comes from secretly not thinking you’re good enough for a very long time. The kind of confidence that is built and molded like a sandcastle, it’s real and layered but can crumble with a simple wave. Despite the crumbling edges and ruined castles Betty knows are in her past and are sure to come in her future, she never stops rebuilding her sandcastle and that makes her strong. Kevin has the quiet kind of strength, the kind that is hidden behind jokes and sassy comments but prevails when it’s needed. He was there for Betty when she needed someone, he has the strength to hold himself up and others. Jughead has the kind of strength that is obvious, it smacks you upside the head when you look at him and screams in your face. He’s strong, physically of course, but that’s not only what you see when you look at him. If you manage to catch his gaze, which he often demands, you can see it in his eyes, under the hardened edges and teasing remarks is a boy who grew up much too fast, who’s seen too many awful things for a man his age, and who struggles to love himself but will pretend to do so till he can. He has a fierce loyalty and a killer streak of kindness that he was never shown but shows others. He’s strong because he’s always had to be.

Jughead thinks Betty is impossibly strong, maybe the strongest person he knows, because she’s here and she’s trying despite her fears. Her life, which has been one awful thing after another and makes Jug’s stomach swirl in agony and anger has tested and stretched anything good in her, trying to break her spirit and ruin her soul, yet, she’s still Betty. She still loves pink. She still puts others before herself. She still cries at animal shelter commercials. She still sees the best in everyone. She still cares. And Jughead thinks that to be who Betty is, after everything she’s been through, makes her the strongest of them all.

A women in a pair of gray slacks and a coral top enters the room,  calling Betty’s name and surveying the waiting room with a smile.

“That’s me,” Betty meekly replies, struggling, only for a second or two, to pull herself out of the chair and make her way over to the therapist.

She knows she sounds weak and she hates it, is silently cursing herself at the pathetic squeak of her voice. But the doctor doesn’t seem to notice and smiles at Betty anyway, gesturing for her to enter the room. Betty doesn’t miss the way the doctor’s eyes flicker over her, scrutinizing her figure, trying to figure out what makes her tick. It makes her anxious, like with one look she knows all her secrets. The sweat on Betty’s underarms and the back of her neck only seem to increase at this, causing her sweater to stick to her skin like she is covered in the slick liquid that runs this town: maple syrup.

She casts a glance toward Jughead, searching for the reassurance she knew he would provide. The biker boy, all hard edges and dark features sends her the most beaming smile all perfect teeth and blue eyes and Betty smiles back. He didn’t disappoint, he never does.

“I’m Doctor Hills, but you can call me Marissa,” the curvy woman says once Betty is in her office as she closes the door. She gestures for Betty to have a seat on a stretched-out leather sofa a kind smile illuminating her features.

Betty nods and offers a slightly dimmer smile in response, taking a seat on the leather and wincing slightly when her hot flesh sticks to the material like Velcro.

Her office is a soothing sage with bright coloured furniture with a fresh citrus scent lingering in the air. Betty likes it, it has a calming effect and she notices the tense knots in her shoulders begin to loosen, if ever so slightly.

“So, how are we supposed to start this…thing?” Betty asks when the silence has dragged on a moment too long.

“Well,” Marissa starts, taking a seat across from Betty in a stiff back tan chair, crossing one leg over the other “why don’t you tell me a little bit about yourself?”

“Um,” Betty hesitates, fingers twitching and urging to dig into her palms and the soft flesh that resides there “Well, I guess I sort of have this problem with food,” Betty starts, already feeling the coil of anxiety tighten in her chest, like an indiscernible sort of weight.

“That’s not what I asked,” the doctor interrupts, leaning forward slightly and resting her polished nails upon a notebook and pen in her lap “I want to know who you are, your issues are not who you are.”

Betty pauses to think about this for a moment, slightly taken aback by the question and not sure what to say.

“I like writing,” she begins, voice soft and earnest, almost shy. “it makes me feel good to write everything out, everything I’m feeling and thinking. I like writing non-fiction stuff too, reports and essays, all that kind of stuff. It feels good to learn as much as you can about something and share it with someone else. I like movies as well, new or old it doesn’t matter, but I’m a super fan of the classics, the real gritty, juxtaposition, real life kinda films that make you think.” Betty doesn’t know when she became this talkative but now that she’s started she can’t seem to stop. “I like fashion too, I don’t think I’m very skilled in it but I can appreciate it when I see it. And I love reading, pretty much anything I can get my hands on, whether that be a novel or the back of a cereal box.”

Marissa nods through all this, but it’s the real kind of nodding like she’s absorbing everything, she’s not pretending. She doesn’t make any notes like Betty expected and instead just listens. Betty, who was beginning to regret her choice to come here since she made the appointment, had to admit it was kind of nice, to just pour herself out and let the words sit.

“I moved here recently with my…” Betty pauses, realizing too late that she’s brought up the sore subject of her mother all by herself.

“With?” Marissa prompts when the blonde teen doesn’t continue.

Betty doesn’t say anything, but she gets this sad, soft look on her face. It reminds Marissa of a beaten puppy or a lost kid, there’s sadness and pain, obvious and on the surface, but there’s something else a deep soul-crushing kind of loss that comes from someone who just wants to be loved. It hurt’s Marissa’s heart and makes her shift uncomfortably in her seat, it was like Betty was haunted.

Betty stares at Marissa, lost in her memories with her mother, which were not a happy place to be. The nightmares of her passed play before her eyes like a movie and she doesn’t even realize she’s been staring into the other woman’s eyes the whole time. Her eyes are a golden, honeysuckle brown framed with thick lashes that curl at the ends on their own accord and their soft and understanding. Betty thinks this is similar to how a mother would look at her daughter when she was heartbroken or sad and the next thing she knows she’s crying, because not once did her mother ever look at her like that.

“Oh Betty,” Marissa frowns, heart aching for the poor girl before her.

“I-I’m sorry, it’s stupid, really,” Betty reasons, wiping away the traitor tears with the side of her forefinger hastily.

“Nothing you feel is stupid, don’t disregard your feelings, Betty, they are valid. You are valid.” Marissa soothes, her voice calming and smooth, like an old jazz record on repeat just above whispering.

Betty sniffles, using a Kleenex from the table to wipe the remnants of her tears from her face.

“We don’t have to talk about it if you’re not ready,” assures the mocha-skinned woman, her voice silky smooth without a hint of anger or disappointment that Betty expected. “We don’t have to talk about anything you’re not ready to Betty, you have to take this one step at a time. I’m here to push you and to help you but if you’re truly not comfortable or ready I will never force you to talk about something.”

And at that, Betty almost wanted to start crying all over again.

Jughead, who wouldn’t dare admit it out loud, let alone to Betty, was terrified. His hands were a shaking mess and his body vibrated like he drank one too many cups of coffee. He knew she needed someone to talk to, someone who could help with the things she felt and dealt with, so that maybe, one day, she could look at herself and see the amazing girl she was, the amazing girl that Jughead saw. But even though Jughead could rationally justify the therapy his emotions didn’t seem to get the message. His heart was hammering in his chest and he felt like he was going to throw up. He doesn’t think he has ever been this nervous in his life, not when he had sex for the first time, not when he became the Serpent leader, and not when he first killed a man. He’s not sure what that says about him but he didn’t care to look at it too closely.

He knows Betty is nervous for today, he could feel it in the shake of her hand when he holds it and sees it in her eyes when she talks. To him, it’s obvious, but he guesses that’s because he’s an expert in reading Betty Cooper. But he would be there for her, telling her she had nothing to be nervous about when he could barely contain his own nerves.

He couldn’t stand that she was alone in there. He knew she wasn’t _really_ alone, the doctor is there after all and they are talking or meditating or whatever the fuck you do in therapy, but she’s not with him and that makes him incredible lonely, incredibly alone. He assumes it’s the same for her, maybe he shouldn’t, shouldn’t push this co-dependence he feels, like she’s his oxygen, but he can’t help it because, god, if it wasn’t so incredibly damn true.

He wishes he was in there with her, he wouldn’t even have to say anything, just hold her hand and rub reassuring circles on her skin in the particular hard moments. Jughead knows he can’t, it’s not what’s best for Betty. And maybe that’s the real tough pill to swallow, accepting that him being there, with her in that room is not what is best for Betty even if it might be what is best for Jughead.

“Do you want to talk about why you decided to make an appointment today, Betty?” the doctor asks, when they are about halfway into her appointment, waiting till she knew more about Betty and the young blonde was comfortable to breach the subject.

Betty hesitates for a moment, knowing she doesn’t really want to talk about much of anything but also knowing she should “I don’t want to,” she begins, voice stronger than it was than when they met “but I should, so I’m going to try.”

Marissa can tell, just by looking at the way she juts out her chin and her eyes set in an almost determined glare, Betty is stubborn and has continued to push herself over and over again in every aspect of her life and therapy is no different. She suspects this might be a part of Betty’s issues but nods none the less for her to continue.

“It all really starts at my boyfriend’s party, I ate some food and the next thing I know I was throwing up and in tears on the bathroom floor in the midst of a panic attack. I didn’t-“ Betty chokes up, her voice getting caught in her throat before continuing “I didn’t mean to throw up, but I did and it’s not the first time something like that has happened.”

Marissa nods, seemingly unphased by this revelation before asking: “Do you remember when this issue started?”

Betty pauses to think, because she’s honest to god not sure and god, how fucking sad is that?

“I’m not entirely sure,” the teen confesses, pulling the sleeves of her sweater over her palms “I would say maybe a year if I had to guess.”

Marissa nods again, Betty is beginning to think it’s a therapist thing or maybe just a Marissa thing, as she jots down some notes.

“Are there any specific triggers for this?”

“Um,” Betty pauses, feeling weird and vulnerable but continues anyway “stress, I guess, or when I’m feeling particularly down on myself. Sometimes there’s no reason at all.”

“How do you feel afterward?”

“Content,” Betty says, without even having to think about it, because it’s true. “But there’s more,” she pauses, searching Marissa’s face for a sign to continue and when she receives a comforting smile she does. “At first I feel content, empty but somehow totally satisfied. But,” Betty fingers tighten on the edge of her sweater as she continues like each word is being painfully ripped from her throat “But then comes the guilt and the self-deprecation and the hate and the pain and the disgust and god if it’s not ten times worse than before.”

“Then why do you do it?”

Betty stops at that, nimble fingers scraping against delicate hairline scabs that grace the surface of her palm just itching to rip them open and feel the satisfying pressure, and she almost wants to laugh because the answer is so obvious to her, drilled into her head since she can remember the most important thing in her life.

“Well to be perfect, of course.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well? What did everyone think? I wanted to go more into the therapy session but it was harder to write than I thought. I hope you all enjoyed it though, let me know in the comments what you thought and what your favourite part/line was! Kudos are also welcomed and loved. Until next time!


	14. Tickling in the Sheets and Blood in the Streets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone! I’m back, sorry for the long delay. I have officially written and passed my certification exam. I will now have much more free time despite working. I hope you all like this chapter, there is some fluff and drama as well as a time skip. Leave some comments to let me know what you guys think, I feel like this chapter has a different feel than my others.
> 
> Also, thank you all for over 300 kudos, almost 8000 views, and the huge amount of comments. Your guys support and love of my works means the world to me and is truly inspiring. 
> 
> Semi smut ahead? (Sort of?)
> 
> Trigger warning: mentions of blood, guns, eating disorders, and self-harm

_Lub dub, lub dub, lub dub_

The sound of Jughead’s heart echoed in her ears, a comforting sound that soothed her very soul.  It was almost like her very own personal lullaby, rocking her to sleep despite the rays of sun that filtered in through his curtains.

Her head was resting on his sternum, the worn fabric of his t-shirt rubbing against her cheek and fisted in her hand that wrapped around his midsection. The smell that enveloped her senses was that of entirely Jughead: coffee, cigarettes, motor oil, and something else entirely unique to the Serpent himself. It was a smell that over the weeks, which had soon blurred into months, was completely familiar to the blonde and in fact was something she had begun to crave and find comfort in. When she was at her lowest, even simply putting on his hoodie or curling up in his (their) bed soothed the ache that she often felt.

“Are you fallin’ asleep?” Jug murmurs, his voice getting somewhat lost in the loose waves of golden adorning her head.

“Not quite,” Betty replies, despite the heaviness that had seeped into her voice and taken residence upon her eyes. “But I think you are.”

“I’m not even tired,” Jughead defends, his voice breaking at the end to stifle a yawn.

“Oh really?” his girlfriend retorts, quirking a brow even though he can’t see it.

Jughead doesn’t reply and instead uses this moment to surprise the blonde, flipping over to hover above her, his weight distributed in his palms on either side of her and his face mere inches from the blonde, who was now laying on her back and trapped between his legs.

“If I was tired would I have done that?” Jughead questions, a smirk playing on his lips.

Betty, who was livelier than a few moments before thanks to his abrupt move couldn’t keep the smile off her face at his playful nature; despite what he was known for Jughead was a kid at heart. She knew the game he was playing, they had played it many times before and she was no stranger to his mischievous ways.

“I think you could if you really wanted to,” she taunts, a smirk beginning to grow on her own lips to match the man above hers.

Jughead frowns, comically large so that the corners of his mouth are pulled too far down in the corners and his top lip is jutting out slightly above his lower. Betty knows he’s faking, she knows the expressions of his face and the micro muscle movements that characterize Jughead and exactly what he’s feeling, so it isn’t hard for her to identify this as Jughead’s “fake sad and pouty” face.

Then he gets the gleam in his eyes, that sparkles like his irises encapsulate a sea of crystals and before she can move a muscle he is on her.

He uses his hand, that is noticeably larger than hers, to grab her wrists and pin them above her head. His hand can easily cover both of her delicate wrists, effectively pinning them to the bed and feeling the fabric of the sheets on either side of his fingers.

Betty’s eyes, mirroring his playful ones also held something much darker and needier in them, something that couldn’t help but enjoy the position Jug had put her in. There was a raw vulnerability in their position, she was completely open to him and unable to move or stop him. She knows he wouldn’t, but he could do anything he wanted to her and there was nothing she could do to stop him. That should scare her, but it didn’t. She couldn’t find a trace of fear within her, instead, she found a bubbling and coiling in her stomach, one that had her leaning into his hold and enjoying every minute of it.

“Now what am I going to do with you?” Jughead rasps, his voice husky and low as he catches the dark twinkle in Betty’s eyes.

“Whatever you want,” she supplies, unconsciously swiping her tongue across her pink-tinted lips.

Jughead grins at this, a devilish grin that lights up his face and darkens his eyes. He reaches his free hand up to the hem of her shirt, letting his finger brush against the gap in the fabric and tickle the sliver of exposed porcelain. He doesn’t miss her soft sigh or the way her eyes flutter at his actions and can’t help but slide his hand up higher to the curve of her silhouette, pulling her shirt along with him and exposing more of her flesh.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs softly, meaning every word as his eyes dance across her figure. Betty had come a long way since they first started dating, even allowing Jughead to remove her shirt when their make-out sessions turned steamy instead of shying away from exposing herself to him. He knew it wasn’t because she didn’t want to, he would never force her to do anything she didn’t want to do, but in actuality, it was because she didn’t think she was worthy enough for him, or anyone. She struggled to see the beautiful girl that she was, but she was making progress, and Jughead was so fucking proud. He enjoyed seeing her this way: skin flushed and eyes closed in delight, the dark hair of her lashes skimming her cheek. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was.

He brushed his thumb along the ridges of her ribs, his digit dipping and rising with the slope of her ribcage and across the pale surface. His touch was soft and delicate, almost non-existent but every brush of his flesh against hers caused a spark of electricity in Betty’s skin, alighting a trail of fireworks in their wake.

She was completely at his mercy and enjoying every minute of it, her eyes closed and lips parted slightly displayed out before him. At that moment, Jughead took the opportunity to run the rest of his fingers delicately across her ribs until he reached the spot he was looking for, the spot that made her weak for him, and then he tickled.

Betty’s eyes shot open and her body jerked roughly away from his touch as his nimble fingers danced across her skin in the worst way possible.

“Jughead!” She gasped, in a much different way than usual, as she struggled to escape his touch.

Jug only laughed in response, finding delight in her squirming and futile attempts to escape.

“Say that I am the smartest, sexiest, toughest Serpent!” he exclaimed, offering her the only salvation she would get from his tickling.

“Never!” she replied, now almost comically thrashing below him, even though she thought all of those things were true.

“Say it!” He said, moving to straddle her a bit tighter so he could free his other hand to tickle both of her sides at once.

Betty only shook her head, the laughter overcoming her ability to talk as her sides began to cramp. However, now with her hands free she would use this to her advantage. She knew she couldn’t overpower Jughead, so she would have to get creative.

The blonde placed her right hand on his jaw, using her thumb to gently caress the skin and slight stubble that resided there, while her left had weaved its way into his beanie-less hair. It took all her might to keep from laughing while his tickling continued, but she knew that would foil her plan.

“Come on Juggy, there are much better things we could do in this position,” she purred, accenting her point with a firm tug of his locks which she happens to know drives him crazy.

It was at this point when his fingers had gone from tickling to caressing her exposed skin, that Betty had knew she won.

She hummed contently in his ear, bringing the boy closer and hitching her leg around his hip. “That’s better,” she whispered, placing a soft kiss below his ear only to be rewarded with a matching sigh.

Using her weight and the help of gravity, she tightened her leg around him and pushed up to successfully roll the pair over, so the blonde was now straddling the former dominate of the two. However, Jughead didn’t seem to mind and instead placed his hands on her hips, enjoying the change.

“Oh Jughead,” she cooed, her hands running up his chest and under his shirt “You’re a fool.” She finished, not pausing to let Jughead take in her comment before she had begun tickling the Serpent.

And Jughead couldn’t even find it in his heart to mind because she was smiling so big.

It had been an amazing month, the days often passing like this or around a table in the White Wyrm or even at school with her new friends flanking her sides. The nightmares about Alice were still ever present and new and old crescent wounds littered her palms, but she was coping, even getting better, dare she think it.

She visited Marissa often, although the sessions were hard and often left her in tears she had Jughead or Kevin by her side, sometimes even both on particularly hard days and she had to admit it was helping. She talks about many things in therapy, not all bad. She talks about Juggy and the way he makes her feel so happy that her heart could just explode. She talks about Kevin, the friend that truly understands what she’s going through. She talks about her newer friends too, Toni, Sweet Pea, and Joaquin that make her feel included and part of the family, seeing as how the Serpents were her only family now. She talks about Alice, the bad parts mostly as that’s all there pretty much is, but some of the few good moments that make Betty question whatever happened to her mom are discussed too. She talks about her food journal and calorie counting, her binging and purging, her ups and downs, and the constant struggle she has to even look in a mirror. And although it sounds silly, talking really does help, well that and all the advice and coping mechanisms that Marissa suggests.

But she hasn’t talked about the slices in her skin, despite the fact that she knows she should. Marissa has seen them, she’s almost sure of it, but neither have ever brought it up. Betty thinks she’s waiting till she is ready, just like the first day they met, and she can appreciate that. One vice at a time, she tells herself.

A short time later, a tickling (and make-out) session behind them, along with a nap, Jug and Betty were curled up on the couch, limbs so intertwined it was hard to separate one from the other. They were watching one of Betty’s favourite films: Rebel Without a Cause. However, this blissful haze of cuddling, half-eaten popcorn, and cult-classics was interrupted by a rapid, loud knock.

Jughead groaned, moving to get up only to be pulled back down by a small hand “Juggggg,” whined the blonde, hoping he would ignore the intruder.

Jughead laughed, contemplating her request for a minute before standing to his feet. “I’ll be only a moment,” he promised, kissing the crown of her head and making his way towards the door.

The minute he opened it he knew something terrible happened.

Sweet Pea was standing, no leaning, against the door frame, one arm draped across Joaquin’s shoulders to keep him semi-upright and the other wrapped around his torso. That wasn’t the worst of it, however, there had been plenty of times where the boys had shown up drunk, or high, on his doorstep needing a place to sober up. That wouldn’t have phased him. The blood, staining Sweet Pea’s once semi-clean shirt and beginning to pool at his feet, however, did.

“Jesus!” Jug yelled, finally finding his voice and moving forward to help Joaquin with Sweet Pea’s dead weight. “What happened?” he questioned, moving to help the taller boy inside and to his kitchen table where they could assess the damage.

“The Ghoulies,” Joaquin growled, helping his leader maneuver the lanky boy between them onto the table.

“Jug?” came a soft voice from behind them, the distant sound of the television in the background and the glow from it illuminating her hoodie and boxer clad figure.

“Betty, go to the bedroom,” Jughead ordered, trying to keep the panic out of his voice when he saw the streaks of blood across the floor. He wasn’t sure if someone could survive that much blood loss.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, coming closer and gasping softly at the sight of Sweet Pea.

“Babe, please just go,” Jughead begged, not wanted her to see this. She had seen enough in her life as it is.

“I can help,” Betty said after a moment, moving to the bathroom to grab the first aid kit they kept on hand.

“I don’t-“ Jughead started, only to be cut off by Joaquin: “We need to take all the help we can get Jughead, he’s in rough shape.”

Jughead knew he was right, he just didn’t want to admit it.

“Betty, grab two bowls and fill one up with hot water,” Jug directed, once she had returned with the first aid kit. The blonde nodded, not missing a beat and made her way over to the sink.

Jughead cut the remnants of Sweet Pea’s shirt off to reveal two bullet wounds in his midsection making him suck in a sharp breath through his teeth. It’s not the first time one of them has been shot, but this is bad. There were no exit wounds he could see meaning he would have to dig around and find the bullets before closing him up and with the amount of blood he was losing he’s not sure how long they had.

Jughead took a deep breath stabling his heart rate as he used a cloth, supplied by Betty, to wipe away some of the blood to get a better look. He was their leader and in times of struggle and crisis he had to remain calm and be the backbone of the gang; if he fell apart all hell would break loose. The Serpents had elected him, not just because of his lineage and right to the throne but because he was strong and smart, he knew how to think on his feet and he knew how to get out of the stickiest of situations, this wasn’t any different.

He grabbed a pair of medical tweezers, sterilizing them before looking at Joaquin. “I need you to hold him down, this is going to hurt.”

He heard Betty gulp but she stayed by, ready to assist in any way she could. Sweet Pea was her family too. Joaquin, without question, held down his friend shoulders ready to keep him there by force. And when Jughead dug the metal into his friend’s wound, wiggling the tool around in search of the bullet he just pretended not to hear his screams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that was an unexpected twist, even for me! I didn't even realize that's where this chapter was heading until it happened. It seems trouble is afoot for our Serpent friends. I wanted to focus more on Jughead and the Serpents, let me know what you guys think about this. Also, what did you guys think of my sorta smut? I could never write real smut so your thoughts and opinions on this would be apprecaited. Leave a comment, they make my day and inspire me to write more!


	15. Blood in the Water

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone! I got inspired and just sat down and wrote this whole chapter, I hope everyone enjoys it! This chapter and the last have been short compared to the usual but I just haven't been writing long chapters lately. Sorry to disappoint! Let me know what you think of this chapter, we get a look into Jughead's mind and a little glimpse of his past.
> 
> Trigger warning: depictions of blood, mentions of guns and violence

It was impossible for him to imagine, how a moment could go from so beautiful and perfect to completely fucking awful, earth-shatteringly so. But, he supposes, he should know that by now, after all, it’s been happening all his life. One moment his mom was there, smiling and putting a plate of fries in front of the eager blue-eyed boy and the next she was gone, taking Jellybean and everything good with her. One day his dad was there basking in his freedom, as free as you could be with the title of Serpent King hanging over your head anyway, and slinging back beers like no tomorrow and the next he was cuffed and thrown away for two life sentences, no chance of parole. Jughead almost wanted to laugh at his naivete, he should have known better; when things seemed too good to be true they usually were. Happiness was something he shouldn’t take for granted and these days his happiness seemed to be in the form of a bubbly blonde who liked to sip pink milkshakes.

He turned his head to the aforementioned blonde beside him, their hands clasped tightly together pale, creamy flesh covering long nimble fingers, hers decorated with a pale green polish that matched her eyes and his with his best friends’ blood. The red liquid had almost dried, but some globs of the sticky matter were still cemented to his skin and wet to the touch. The three of them, Betty a willow blonde clutching onto Jughead, a stormy-eyed Serpent covered in blood, and Joaquin a handsome, albeit shaken up Serpent gripping Jughead’s other hand stood before Sweetpea, unable to move or avert their eyes from him. He lay so still and pale he almost looked dead, but thankfully, due to Jughead’s doctor skills and the other two’s assistant he wasn’t. Despite this fact, neither of the three wanted to move, afraid that if they did he would suddenly be gone.

Betty was the first to speak, perhaps because she knew the bleeding boy the least, but her voice was soft and timid almost afraid to break the silence that had settled over them. “You guys should clean yourselves up, you’re covered in…” she lets her voice trail off, not meaning to but finding the words dying in her throat “I can clean this up and keep an eye on Sweets,” she offers, her voice resurrecting as she feels Jug squeeze her hand.

The boys can’t help the small smiles that alight their face at Betty’s nickname for the tallest Serpent. If it were anyone else besides the wide-eyed Betty Cooper, Sweetpea would throttle them for calling him that, however, he seemed touched by the nickname, even giving Betty one of her own.

Jughead nodded, clearing his throat before straightening his shoulders in only the way a leader does before saying: “That sounds good. Joaquin, you can shower up here and borrow some of my clothes, don’t worry about it.”

Joaquin nods, still unable to speak, like the blood on his clothes was clogging his throat, squeezes Jughead’s hand, and makes his way towards the guest bathroom.

Jughead kisses the side of Betty's head, enjoying the way her skin heats up under the touch and the life that radiates off her soul. _She’s beautiful alive_ , he can’t help but think as lips simply rest on her temple. The shorter of the two doesn’t seem to mind and in fact can’t help but enjoy the tender moment, letting a blissful sigh escape her plump lips.

“You should go get Joaquin his clothes,” she directs, her voice barely above a whisper “before he gets in the shower.”

Jughead murmurs a sound of commitment, somewhere between a “mhmm” and “yeah” but neither of the two makes a move to separate, simply enjoying the closeness.

The sound of the shower starting fills the comfortable silence enveloping the pair and Jug lets out an annoyed sigh, not wanting to separate himself from his girlfriend but knows he has to.

“I should go clean up,” he says, pulling back and making his way to his own room.

After depositing the change of clothes in the other bathroom, Jughead found himself inside his own shower, the water cascading down on him and swirling down the drain in an ugly rust colour. His head was resting against the cool tile, enjoying the way it felt against his otherwise too hot skin. The water worked its magic on the knots in his back, uncoiling the matted muscle and loosening his joints till he could finally let out the quiet sob that he hadn’t known was stuck in his chest.

Jughead let the few tears roll down his face, the salty liquid mixing with the water and blood until he couldn’t tell which was which. He cried for his friend, Sweetpea, who was far too young to almost die from being gun down in the street. He cried for his other friend, Joaquin, who was far too young to see it. He cried for himself, who was sick of losing people and sick of the bloodshed. He cried because he was angry, at himself for living a life that would only lead to pain, at Sweetpea for getting shot, and for the Ghoulies for almost killing his best friend. And suddenly, the tears stopped, and instead were replaced by something much darker and feral: a hate and need for revenge.

Betty had filled a bucket with water on the verge of boiling and tossed in a couple of capfuls of bleach for good measure and was now on her knees, scrubbing the dried blood with an old sponge she found under the sink, using both her hands to scrub the remnants off the hardwood. Leaning forward off her knees, using her full weight to wash the floor within an inch of its life and ignoring the burn of the water and bleach against her skin she was transported to another time, another bloody mess, another house.

“Betty?” came Jughead’s voice, sounding a million miles away.

When the blonde failed to reply or even acknowledge the Serpent, he grasped her shoulder lightly to gain her attention. He didn’t get a chance to call her name again because she just about jumped out of her skin at the contact, whipping her head around so fast that her hair, which was pulled into a knot with the hair tie she kept around her wrist, fell into her eyes which were wide and afraid.

“Jesus, Betts,” Jug yelped, removing his hand from her skin like the touch had burned her fair flesh. He knelt down, balancing on the balls of her feet and using his now clean hands to tuck the loose strands behind her ear “You alright, love?”

Betty closed her eyes, enjoying his touch and letting it ground her to reality. Despite the situation she was here, with Jughead, she was safe. She opened her eyes, jade meeting cerulean, and she could see the worry nestled in his.

She reached her own hand up, despite the suds that clung to her skin, and brushed it against his face, cupping his jaw and brushing her thumb along the curve. “I’m fine,” she murmured, reassuring the silent questions that she knew he needed to be answered.

He nodded, leaning into her touch and accepting her words of reassurances for what they were.

“Are you?” Betty asks, concerning switching from him to her as she took in his red rim eyes and heavy-set lids.

“Coping,” he answers honestly, flicking his eyes over to the still figure on the table.

“He hasn’t moved much, but that’s normal. He needs time to rest and regain his strength. Once Joaquin is out here you should move him to the guest bedroom, I’m sure the bed is much more comfortable than the table.”

The entire time she is talking her fingers are tracing hairline shapes on the edge of his jaw and curling back into the strands of his hair. Jughead nods and tries his best to concentrate on her words, but despite the seriousness of the situation he can’t help but become lost in her touch.

“I need to call the boys over, they need to know what happened and we need to make a plan,” he explains, silently telling Betty their apartment is about to be full of Serpent members, even more so than usual.

The blonde nods, turning away and removing her hand from Jughead’s face and hair despite his mewl of protest, to ring out the sponge.

“I’m almost done here and I’ll throw on some coffee, I’m sure everyone will need it. Maybe some snacks too,” she mumbles the last part, almost to herself as she picks up the bucket and dumps the red tinted water down the drain. She considers the sponge for a moment before tossing that in the trash and turning towards Jughead, her back resting against the counter.

“You know Betts,” Jughead starts, walking towards Sweetpea and checking on his stitches one more time. “you’re pretty great” he finishes, feeling rather lame but hoping the sentiment is there all the same. And when she smiles her famous Betty Cooper smile, the real one that lights up her eyes and the very room itself, he knows she does.

Joaquin walks out at this moment, looking slightly odd in a beaten band t-shirt and old jeans that look a tad too short if his exposed ankles are anything to go by.

“How is he?” is the first thing he asks, eyes flicking from the pair to his friend on the table.

“Resting,” Betty replies, drying her still wet and now pruney hands on a small hand towel hanging off the handle of the stove and making her way towards Sweets.

“We should move him to the spare room,” Jug speaks up, his voice that of a leader and filled with authority. Joaquin nods and agrees, moving towards the pair to help lift him.

It takes longer than expected, but soon enough Sweetpea is laying in the bed, in a new shirt and his boxers, sheets tucked delicately around him and a glass of water on the nightstand alongside a handful of painkillers in case he wakes up. The group decides to leave him after this, the door gapped slightly to keep an eye on the healing man. Betty is in the kitchen, making coffee and tea for the Serpents soon to be here while Jughead does his duty and begins to call his fellow snakes.

He calls everyone he can think of, getting Joaquin to do the same, and he hates every minute of it.

“Hey, Rosa, it’s Jughead,” he greets Sweetpea’s mom, the first call of many and the one that he least wants to make. “It’s Sweetpea, he’s in pretty rough shape-” he goes to continue but is cut off by the cry of a mother who has been waiting for this call since her son joined the gang at the young age of fifteen.

“Please,” she begs, the agony clear in her voice, “please tell me he’s okay.” And even though Jughead can’t see her, he’s sure she’s crying.

“He’s okay, Rosa,” he promises, unable to stand her suffering for another second. “he lost a lot of blood but he’s okay. He’s sleeping now at my place above the bar, you can come by if you want. I’m sure he would like you to be here.”

He pictures her nodding, already gathering her flower covered bag she always seemed to have with her and heading towards the door.

“I’ll send one of the boys to pick you up,” Jughead continues, hearing the jangle of keys clanging in the background. “you’re in no condition to drive.” He reasons, knowing she has an argument on the tip of her tongue. However, she relents, not putting up a fight like she normally would and thanks Jughead for calling her.

And with every call he makes, every cry he hears, he swears he will make the Ghoulies pay for this. He’ll find out who did this and kill them with his bare hands, he wants to feel their blood against his skin, because, maybe, it will erase the feeling of his own friend's blood and make him feel, if even for a moment, better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did everyone think? I felt like this chapter was kind of dark but also very touching, an interesting mix for sure. Let me know in the comments what you think, they make my day!


	16. Leaving Ink and Smoke in Their Wake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone! I bring you another chapter that was created at 2:00 am while I am sick and working on four hours of sleep so please forgive any obvious errors missed, I did my best, as always, to edit it.
> 
> Warning: brief mentions of gun violence and blood
> 
> PS: There are a few lines in Spanish in the story, which I got from google translate. Sorry if they don't quite add up to what they are supposed to be, I'm from Canada and we speak French instead of Spanish

The first thing he felt was pain, gut-wrenching, unbearable, pain all before he even opened his eyes. He was used to pain though, physical and otherwise and had since, because of this, learned to breathe through it. He inhaled, discovering the air around him was stale, only to be met by a sharp pain in his chest. The expand of his lungs only seemed to further alight the burn in his torso instead of sooth the ache. He gingerly raised a hand, finding that it too caused pain, to come to rest on his chest, searching for the wound without opening his eyes. His hand caressed the stretch of cotton, slipping under it in search of his injuries, and eventually came to rest on a thick bandage around his centre. And only then did he open his eyes.

After a moment, once his eyes adjusted to the light, he looked downwards, tilting his head up slightly to get a better view of the bandage. His fingers wiggled their way under the edge, lifting the rose-tinted fabric to peer at his wounds. His chocolate coloured eyes were met with the all too familiar zig-zag of stitches, pulling his skin together and holding it there. He was all too familiar with Jughead’s patchwork and this had his name written all over it. His fingers stilled, holding up the bandage as it all came flooding back to him.

_Sweet Pea and Joaquin were walking down the sidewalk, or, where a sidewalk would be if they lived on the other side of town, instead they had worn, dirt paths with patches of cement and grass melding together to form walkways on either side of the road. The pair had just finished a job and were heading towards SunnySide after little sleep. Their shoulders bumped against one another as they walked, boots slapping the pavement loudly and scuffling when they failed to lift their feet far enough off the ground because they just couldn’t find the energy. Their bikes, which neither Serpent would usually be seen without weren’t in the best shape and for the moment were parked in the shop ‘round the block awaiting repair. The shop had closed hours before but the Serpents were regulars, with some members even working there in the past, so they left the keys under the seat and began the trek home on foot._

_They weren’t very far from home when it happened, a block or two away at most, but isn’t that always the way it goes?_

_“Do you hear that?” Joaquin asks, ears perking up and movements slowing to survey the scene._

_“Dude,” Sweet Pea began, still moving forward his voice thick with sleep and exasperation, “the only thing I can hear is my bed calling my name, let's go.”_

_Joaquin frowns and squints his eyes, peering forward in an attempt to make out the shapes in the darkness. The only silhouettes in his vision are those of abandoned buildings and dead trees, but it’s hard to tell one shadow from the other and by the time he has reassured himself that nothing is there a shot has already rung out._

Sweet Pea closes his eyes, bringing his hand up to rub against the growing crease between his brows as the memories start to become fuzzy.

_“Joaquin?” Sweet Pea asks voice shaky and scared, hand coming up in a futile attempt to trap the blood inside his body and cover the wound._

_“Shit, shit, shit” Joaquin yells, ducking low and running towards the other Serpent. He’s no good to either of them if he gets shot too, but that doesn’t mean he’s leaving his brother._

_Joaquin manages to reach the taller Serpent before he slumps to the ground, scooping him in his arms and placing his hand over the spilling wound, trying his best to ignore the red seeping through his friends’ fingers._

_“You’re going to be alright, I got you,” Joaquin promises, willing his voice steady as he drags Sweet Pea along to some form of cover._

_Sweet Pea is awake and lucid enough to know they have to move, but his limbs are tangling below him, his head is foggy, and god, for the life of him he can’t remember what they are running from and – oh – the bullet wound, right. And like some asshole above didn’t think he got the message, more shots ring out reminding him, clipping the corners of buildings and ricocheting off abandoned cars._

_“Go!” Sweet Pea orders, stilling his movements and leaning against the side of a brick factory, once lively and the heart of the community now vacant and a constant reminder of what the South Side lost._

_“What? I’m not leaving you,” Joaquin growls, head whipping around to look for somewhere to hide and simultaneously trying to gauge just how far adrenalin will get the neck-tatted Serpent before the shock kicks in._

_“You have to, I’m only slowing you down,” he pauses, looking down at his hand which he pulled back slightly to gauge the blood loss. “I might be dead already, anyway,” he says, looking up with a laugh even though his eyes are glistening because that’s the kind of man he was._

_“Like hell you are, stop being a little bitch and sack up. We just gotta make it to Jug’s,” Joaquin says, slinging his arm around Sweet Pea’s waist and pulling out his switchblade. “And would you put some pressure on the wound, ya moron,” The blue-eyed Serpent snaps, bringing his hand over his friends’ once again and pressing it firmly to the wound._

_Sweet Pea grunts and swings his arm around the other boys’ shoulders before pulling out his matching blade._

_“We’re the only idiots that would bring knives to a gun fight.”_

That was the last thing he can remember before waking up in what he is guessing Jughead’s apartment. He’s been in it, of course, but never in the bedrooms, opting most times to sleep on the couch or stumble the short distance home. For some reason, this panics him, because suddenly he’s not sure where he is. The room is unfamiliar and his knife is nowhere to be seen, and fuck, it hurts to breathe let alone fight. His eyes flicker to the window and the door, looking for escape routes if it comes to that when he hears it. It’s loud, not soft and soothing like you would expect, but jarring and deep, rumbling through the walls. It’s laughter, paired with the clinking of glasses and hard voices and Sweet Pea knows all those sounds. It’s the Serpents and for the first time since he woke up, he thinks he can breathe because he’s home.

The apartment reeked of smoke, the air thick with nicotine to the point where Betty could taste the tobacco in her breath when she inhaled. The Serpents around her stood talking, cigarettes hanging from loose fingers and pursed lips and she couldn’t ask them to stop, despite the burn in her lungs she had begun to feel. Instead, she thought, moving quickly to the large picture window and pushing it open till gulps of fresh air filled her lungs and wafted into the apartment _It’s nothing a little breeze can’t fix._ The blonde hurried around the apartment, cracking open windows and smiling proudly at her accomplishment when the smoke that had settled above them started to clear.

She, despite the situation, was kind of loving all the Serpents in their apartment. Most she recognized, some she didn’t, but all were nothing but sweet towards the blonde. Plus, she had to admit, in a time like this it was comforting to have them around, it felt like family. Currently, she was whizzing around the kitchen, bent over checking on the cookies in the oven when she felt a hand on her waist.

“Hey!” she called, whipping around so fast she clocked her head on the knob of the stove.

“Fuck, Betts,” Jughead cursed, moving his hand from her waist to cup her jaw and examine her head, not needing to even tilt down her jaw because he towered over her.

“You spooked me, I thought I was going to have to whack someone with my spatula,” the teen half-jokes, waving the silicon object in her hand threatening.

“No one here’s going to lay a hand on you Bett’s,” he says, voice firm as his eyes look for any trace of injury.

“Because I’m with you?”

“Because they respect you, you’re a Serpent just as much as anyone else, with me or not,” he couldn’t help but wince at the idea of the blonde not as his side “and Serpent’s stick together.”

The blonde smiles at this and swats his hands away from her face before kissing his nose “I’m fine, now shoo, I have cookies to finish, another pot of coffee to throw on, and sandwiches that aren’t going to make themselves.”

“Let me help,” he offers, looking for something to distract him.

“Good idea, you’re on sandwich duty.”

Jughead mock salutes and can’t help but love the way she’s bossing him around and directing him like he’s never made a sandwich in his life. It should be annoying but to him, it’s not. He can’t find it in himself to be annoyed with the care she puts into every little thing she does, from cutting cheese to the size of her cookies.

Once the sandwiches are made, thanks to Jughead and everything else is done, thanks to Betty, the pair find themselves squeezed into an armchair, draped across one another with a plate on one of the arms stacked high with snacks.

Her fingers are absently tracing the lines of ink etched onto his arm as she speaks, it’s something she does so often she no longer has to look to see where the lines connect to one another and instead just knows where the ink meets and expands across his skin.

She wasn’t even sure how many tattoos he had, the beginning of one bleeding into another till a melange of lines and colours were impossible to tell from one another, expanding up his forearm till bits of skin were almost impossible to make out under the hard lines and curved edges of ink.

Her favourite tattoo of his would often change, from the swooping script on his ribs to the snake coiled around his bicep that wove it’s way to his forearm in a flourish of green and blues scaling the expense of the snake.

Jughead loved the feeling of her delicate touch, fingers skimming across his skin like a feather and bringing goosebumps to the surface in their wake. She almost didn’t know she was doing it, tracing the ink as a form of habit and comfort rather than a choice.

“I can’t believe you’re hungry,” she says, directed to him fingers never pausing “I’m not sure I’ll ever eat again.” Because every time she closes her eyes she sees Sweet Pea dead or pools of blood that she can’t scrub away.

Jughead frowns, his grip tightening on her waist, he knows she doesn’t mean it like _that_ , but it has the effect on him all the same and god if he can’t get the sentence out of his head. He musses, almost sarcastically, that it will just join the ghostly whispers that haunt him daily.

The couple is surrounded by Serpents and Jughead is surprised to find that he can barely get a word in edgewise between Betty and the other leather-clad members. He supposes he shouldn’t be, she never has a problem chatting with them at the bar or even playing a game of pool, but a few dozen Serpent’s are more to handle than two or three and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t worried he would scare her off. _Silly him_ , he thinks with a subtle shake of his head, he should know she’s seen much worse than a couple of bikers with a soft spot for pretty blondes with a heart of gold.

“It’s making this rattling sound, kind of like a quarter in a tin can,” Felix explains, face scrunching up in distaste at the thought of his precious bike being anything other than tip-top.

The blonde’s brow creases in concentration like she’s trying to diagnosis the problem with that simple explanation.  “I can take a look at it tomorrow, it sounds like an easy enough fix.”

Felix beams at this, reaching forward with a boot-clad foot to nudge hers in a show of affection, “You’re the best, blondie.”

Betty opens her mouth to reply, but suddenly she’s jumping out of her seat (Jughead’s lap) and onto her feet. “Sweet Pea!” she calls, gaining the attention of every Serpent (sans Rosa) in the room. She’s rushing towards him before the others can react, which says something in and of itself, to help keep him upright as his legs wobble from disuse and blood loss. Her tiny frame, at best half his size in height alone, wraps around him and uses the wall to hold him up and herself as a crutch under his arm.

“A little help here guys!” she calls, snapping the snake riddled group out of their shock and over to the pair.

Soon enough Sweet Pea is back in bed, seated up and surrounded by Serpents and his mom, which, for the record, is all the family he has, needs, in the world. And before anyone can say a word, Betty is pushing through the leather, met with little resistance as the bodies clear for her, and standing before him with both hands on her hips. “Sweets! What in the hell were you thinking getting out of bed, you could have ripped your stitches out.”

Snickers erupt behind her but are quickly silenced by a sharp look over her shoulder. Jughead can’t help but grin, he’s seen that look, mostly directed at him, before.

“Sorry, Bee,” he apologizes, fighting the light-headedness from moving around.

She shakes her head, moving to sit on the edge of the bed and hand him a glass of water and a handful of pills. “Don’t be so careless next time, we don’t need you any more hurt than you already are.” Her voice is softer than before, gentle and sad and it makes Sweet Pea mad at himself for getting shot because he knows that voice, it’s the voice of someone who’s upset, who’s been crying.

“Don’t worry about me, blondie, a little flesh wound can’t keep me down,” he grins at the end and pats her knee and only then does she finally let herself smile.

Rosa, who was to the right of Sweet Pea, reached over to firmly swat the back of her son’s head causing Sweet Pea to jump and jostle the water in her glass. “Oh Dios mío. Deberías escuchar a la serpiente rubia.” Her tone softened, from scalding to loving as she smoothed down the hair on the back of his head with what can only be described as a mother’s touch. “Me tienes preocupado, idiota. Estoy tan feliz de que estés bien.”

Sweets smiled, leaning into his mother’s touch before a wave of tiredness swept over him and his eyes began to droop.

“You probably overexerted yourself,” came Jughead’s voice through the crowd, the bodies parting like the red sea for their leader to be seen by the bedridden Serpent.

Sweet Pea only nodded in reply, the thought of forming words suddenly seeming insurmountable as Betty took the glass from his hands and placed it on the nightstand before he could spill it all over himself.

“Get some rest,” Jughead continued, moving to stand at the end of the bed “we will talk tomorrow and don’t worry these bastards are going to pay for what they did to you, I’ll make sure of that, we all will.”

The last thing Sweet Pea heard before drifting off into oblivion was the resounding cheers of reply to Jughead.

No one got away with hurting one of their own, they would get their pound of flesh even if they had to hold Malachi down and carve it from him themselves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spanish lines: Oh my god, you should listen to the blonde Serpent. You had me worried, idiot, I'm so happy you're okay.
> 
> Well, what did everyone think? Let me know below, comments make my day (especially days like today). I hope the tattoo thing didn't seem out there, I had pictured Jug with many tattoos since I started writing this and realized I hadn't really worked it into the story. I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter, things are going to turn dark pretty quickly with the Serpents out for blood.


	17. As Soft As Velvet, As Sweet as Honey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! I got inspired and wrote another chapter, in this one we get some Toni and Betty friendship, which I love. I hope everyone enjoys it!
> 
> Thank you guys for 10,000 hits, it means so much and I hope everyone keeps reading.
> 
> Warning: Mentions of gun violence and eating disorders

It was cold in Riverdale. The windows of the apartment, adorned with diamond patterns in Wuthering Heights fashion and thick dark wood trim, were frosted over, the ice spiderwebbing across the window in thinning and thickening veins. The wind outside was loud, whipping against slated buildings and between the branches of leafless trees, hallowing an unforgivable melody against the skin of those who dared venture far under the cloudless sky. It was the kind of cold that you could feel in your bones like the air was seeping through your skin and mixing in your blood.

On this particular morning Betty and Toni, each warmed by Serpent sweaters and the heat radiating from the oven, stood in the kitchen baking desserts of all kinds. The pink haired Serpent was surprisingly an avid baker, who taught Betty a thing or two about making the perfect snickerdoodle. The counter was covered in cookies, cakes, and pies and the girls were dusted in flour and the sent of sugar and vanilla.

Betty, who over the months since she had started seeing Marissa, had gotten better with eating; she no longer kept a food diary or counted calories despite the burning need that would sometimes alight in her. She still ate small amounts and could sometimes even hear the wrath of Alice’s words in her head when she ate too much or the wrong kind of food, but she was getting better at dealing it. She wasn’t better, because as Marissa explained _you don’t just get better and move on, it’s always with you_ , but she was healing.

“These are so fucking good,” Toni moaned, biting into a double chocolate chunk cookie and swinging her legs from the stool where she sat.

Betty smiled, biting into a snickerdoodle and swallowing before saying: “Mixing bitter and milk chocolate chunks are the key, it sounds weird but it makes it about 800 times better.”

“Oh, I believe you,” Toni replies with a mouthful of chocolate “because these are fucking great.”

Betty laughs, wiping some crumbs from her lips with the back of her hand. “I should bring some into Sweets, he might be up by now.”

“Sweet Pea, up before noon?”

“He hasn’t been sleeping well since…” the blonde’s voice trails off, her eyes darting downwards.

Toni frowns, lips decorated with crumbs and chocolate smudges pointing downwards in the corners “Not even with meds?”

The blonde shakes her head, ponytail whooshing back and forth at the motion “They helped for the first few days, but I guess he’s gotten a higher tolerance to them now; he sleeps for a few hours but then wakes up, nights are the hardest.”

Toni nods, absorbing her words before taking another bite of her cookie “Well, let's bring him some dessert for breakfast, that’s a thing, right?” she jokes, lips quirking at her own joke.

The two young women stacked up different cookies (double chocolate chunk, peanut butter, and snickerdoodle), a few slices of cake (red velvet, caramel coffee, and French vanilla), and topped it off with some pie (pumpkin, peach, and cherry).

Betty laughed, staring at the mound of food on the plate “Do you think this is too much?”

Toni joins the blonde in laughter and shakes her head, letting the pink tinted pigtails bounce behind her “He’s got an appetite that could rival Jughead’s, he might even want seconds.”

Sweet Pea had been up for hours now, the soft depths of the mattress seeming uncomfortably spongey like the bed was sucking him into the material below and strangling him in the foam. He had long since kicked off the blankets, unable to stand the weight on his legs. He wanted another glass of water, his throat dry and scratchy and his lips raw like sandpaper but he couldn’t find the energy to swing his legs over the bed and make his way to the kitchen; he wanted to call for Betty or Jug but the two (and the other Serpent members who stayed nights at the apartment to help care for him) were exhausted and most likely sleeping.

“Sweets?” came the soft, twinkling voice of the very blonde he was just thinking of from the other side of the door before she pushed open the dark wood.

“I’m up” he calls back, struggling for a moment but managing to sit up.

“We brought you some food,” Toni calls, voice distinctively different than the blonde’s but still just as beautiful.

“Food?” he perks up, sitting straighter and ignoring the gnawing pull of his stitches.

“We’ve been baking all morning, we brought you a little of everything,” the blonde chirps, placing the plate on his nightstand.

“We? As in…both of you?” he asks a laugh bubbling from his lips and a grin on his face.

“Shut the fuck up, ‘Pea,” Toni barks, placing the glass of milk on the nightstand beside the plate and playfully whacking his shoulder. “I’m a great damn cook.”

Sweet Pea doesn’t reply, instead, he grabs a giant cookie resting on top of the pile and takes a large bite, practically cutting the sweet in half with his teeth.

“Well?” both girls asked in unison, eyes flicking towards one another and then back to the boy before them.

“Mmmmm” is the only reply they get, before he’s stuffing the other half of the cookie in his mouth.

They both laugh, their laughs also distinctively different, but both exactly what Sweet Pea needed to hear.

“I’m going to give some to Jug, I’m sure he’s hungry too,” The ponytailed girl announces, patting Sweet Pea’s arm comfortingly and exiting the room.

When she cracks open the door to their bedroom she isn’t surprised to see him asleep, curled under the blankets with an arm thrown over his face, and his beanieless hair sticking up in different directions. She pauses, leaning against the doorway, unable to stop herself from admiring the boy. He was so peaceful in his sleep, his face smooth and calm, the worry and angst that often filled his features missing while he slumbered. The strands of black that curled and flopped into his eyes and spilled onto the pillow only seemed to make him look younger, the messy tendrils the picture of innocent youth.

He was so beautiful.

She could stare at him for hours and often found herself doing so when sleep alluded her. His eyelashes, long and dark swooping against his cheeks, mouth hanging open with a puddle of drool beneath him, and arms often wrapped around her or thrown over his face in an attempt to drown out the flickers of light that managed to seep through the curtains. Sometimes, she thinks this is her favourite way to see him: asleep, worriless, peaceful.

She almost doesn’t want to wake him, knows he needs his sleep and doesn’t want to give him the weight of the world that he feels falls upon his shoulders when he’s conscious. But, the morning had faded into afternoon and they all had things to do, she figured waking him with sweets and cinnamon kisses was the way to go if she was going to have to do it.

“Juggie,” she murmurs, moving closer and setting the plate down in order to crawl beside him and nuzzle into the crook of his neck, placing feather light kisses on the skin that resides there.

“Mmm”

“Wake up, Jug,” she coos, planting kisses on his jaw with sticky lips.

He doesn’t say anything this time and instead uses the arm formally against his face to wrap around her center and pull her flush against him, till the flour on her shirt dust onto his, standing out much more starkly on his black tee.

She giggles, loving every second and even melting into the hold, finding her eyes drooping slightly and the wave of tiredness she’d been repressing hitting her like a truck. “I guess I could rest, just for a second,” she muses, closing her eyes and sighing contently at the feeling of being wrapped up in everything Jughead.  “The food will be fine for a bit,” she mumbles, already drifting into the state of hazy unconsciousness, hovering somewhere between reality and dreams.

“Food?” Jughead asks, snapping open his eyes, suddenly sounding much more alert.

“Dessert,” she corrects, voice thick and muddled as she curls her own arm around him.

“Well, I am kinda hungry,” the blue-eyed boy says, like a plea to let her go and reach towards the cookies and cakes he can now see beside his bed.

She sighs an overexaggerated sigh and flops onto her back, untangling herself from him and opening her eyes. “Go ahead.”

“You’re the best,” he grins, kissing her quickly before leaning over her to grab the plate of goodies.

He starts in on the food before she can even get her next sentence out.

“Toni and I got up early and baked our butts off,”

Jughead nods, swallowing a large piece of pie before replying: “You guys did a great job,” he frowns then, taking in the large array of sweets “What time did you get up anyway?”

Betty shrugs and sits up slightly, leaning back against the headboard, “5:00? Maybe earlier, I don’t remember.”

Jughead frowns again, placing the plate on his thigh and giving the blonde his full attention “We didn’t go to bed till 1:00.”

She only shrugs again, flickering her eyes to a stray thread to avoid looking at him knowing that he can read her like a book.

“You need to sleep, Betts,” he says when she doesn’t reply, tucking a stray hair behind her ear and letting his thumb graze the slope of her cheek.

“I know,” she breathes, voice soft and all air.

He wraps his arm around her shoulder, tucking the blonde into his side that seems perfectly slotted for her like he was made to hold her and kisses her head “I know it’s hard and there’s a lot going on in that pretty little head of yours, but I’m here. I’m always here, Betts.”

He can feel her nod against him and the tension start to drain from her shoulders.

“Try and get some sleep, baby.” He coerces, voice soft like velvet.

“Maybe I’ll just rest my eyes for a minute,” she murmurs, voice sweet like honey as she begins to drift off against him.

He doesn’t touch his food till he’s sure she is asleep.

When she wakes up, Jughead is gone from her side, the bedsheets cool and crisp under her touch signaling his been gone for a while. However, in the place where her boyfriend should be curled up beside her is a hand-written note, folded delicately and written on a strip of once crumpled newspaper in sharpie. She wants to laugh because even the note, before reading its contents, screams Jughead.

_Betty,_

_I wish I could have stayed in bed with you all day, unfortunately, I have Serpent matters to attend to. I left some lunch for you in the fridge, the others have already eaten so don’t let them guilt you into splitting it. Toni volunteered to watch over Sweet Pea for the rest of the day, don’t worry about him he’ll be just fine._

_Thanks for the sweets in bed this morning, the cookies and shit were also pretty good._

She pauses in the note to laugh, shaking her head at her ridiculous boyfriend and admiring the adorable winky face he drew beside his comment before continuing.

_I hope you are feeling a bit better after your rest, relax today, you deserve it._

_Don’t worry about me either, the boys and I are being safe and I’ll be back before you know it._

_All the love in the world,_

_Jug_

Betty can’t help but hold the letter tightly to her chest, trying to absorb his words into her skin and calm the eruption of butterflies. She decides to take his advice, for once forgoing her stubborn nature and flicks on the tv. She uses Jughead’s pillow as a cuddle buddy, his scent all over it and the vague torso shape she can squish it into the best she can manage in his absence.

Meanwhile, not too far from where the blonde was, Jughead, Fangs, Joaquin, Felix, and other trusted Serpents sat around a wooden table smoking cheap cigarettes. Jughead had previously called them the snakes of the roundtable, which only earned a laugh from Fangs.

“What’s the plan, boss?” Felix questions, leaning forward to stub out his cigarette.

“The Ghoulies have been pushing us around for too long, they deal on our side of town, they mess with our shipments, they fucking shoot Sweet Pea. I’m sick of it, this was the last fucking straw; we are going to take them down for good.”

The other members nod in agreement, a matching stoic expression on their faces.

Jughead lights up his fifth cigarette, enjoying the feeling of nicotine seeping into his lungs as he lets out a cloud of smoke, waiting till it dissipates into the air before continuing.

“We can’t go in half-cocked, we need a solid plan for this to work. They may be violent, raving, lunatics but we are smart.” He accentuates his point by flicking the burnt ash off the tip of his smoke and into the ashtray.

“So, what are we going to do?” an older Serpent with a gruff voice and beard to match asks.

Jughead leans forward on his leather covered elbows, shimmering eyes hard and threatening, the sweet, innocence Betty saw in him earlier now gone. “We’re going after Malachi.”

A few of the members around the table look hesitant, Jughead can sense that without having to look at their creased foreheads of slack jaws.

“Listen, he’s in charge of them and the only way we are going to get them to stop is to take him down, once and for all.”

“Take him down?” Joaquin asks, a knowing twang tinging his voice.

Jughead nods and places his gun on the table, the cool, sleek metal catching the lone light that hangs above them in the darkness.

“I’m not letting him hurt anyone else I love.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you guys think? I'm not sure how I feel about it. In the next chapter, we will see the Serpent's plan begin to form and take action, but not without a few hitches. Let me know if you have any ideas about what to come next in the comments and of course, let me know what you think! I also think I'm going to have to bump it up to a little bit more than 20 chapters, maybe 22 but we shall see!


	18. Phase One: Recon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, all! 3 updated in one month?! Who am I? This one is pretty short but I want each phase of the plan to be it's own chapter so it had to be. However, I hope everyone still enjoys it! I just got a second job at the hospital so fingers crossed that I won't be insanely busy lol Also Riverdale starts again in 2 weeks and I'm so excited!
> 
> Trigger Warning: mentions of guns, knives, and violence

It seemed simple enough: go to the Ghoulie’s bar, scope out what they are dealing with, report back to Jughead.  Of course, things were more complicated than that.

A handful of Serpents were sent to sleuth around the outskirts of the bar, directed to remain in the shadows and go unnoticed. The black leather they all wore seamlessly blended into the background as they observed the bar for hours on end. Ghoulie members came and went, all packing heavy loaded firearms either in the waistband of their pants or clenched tightly in dirty fingers and it was beginning to become hard to tell exactly how many members there were. One thing was clear to the Serpents; however, they were outmanned and outgunned. If they were really planning to take down the Ghoulies once and for all they would need more firepower to stand a chance. They all knew Jughead’s plan, they just were beginning to doubt if it could work.

By the time the sun had started to rise and the first twinkling of dawn had begun to spread across the sky the Serpents were all sore and tired, eyes strained and bleary from concentrating all night. But, they did as directed and were now on their way back to base, limbs pulled and tight from sitting on the ground and now tingling from disuse and the rush of blood.

“God, I’m tired,” Felix moans, rubbing the back of his neck as he walks in an attempt to unknot the kink that had formed overnight.

“Quit complaining, kid, you’re what, 23? You can spend a night on the ground just fine.” Tall Boy, a much older Serpent all but snarls back, agitation clear in his gruff reply.

Felix huffs in reply, not one to cause problems especially with an elder, and shoulders on.

When the finally make their way back to the White Wyrm it’s closer to mid-morning, an acceptable time for people to be awake, and a few of the Serpent’s are spread out across the tavern.

It’s mostly old drunks who either haven’t left since last night or are back to start drinking all over again. But there are some younger Serpents as well: Betty is there, of course, seated next to Jughead in a booth as she throws her hands around gesturing widely. To others unknown, it would look like they were fighting or that Betty was about to be in deep shit for disrespecting their leader, but to those that knew the pair, it was obvious what was going on, especially once the novel on the table came into view: it was just another heated discussion about books. Sweet Pea sat across from them, now able to walk around and stay conscious for most of the day, leaning against the worn leather an arm loosely wrapped around his midsection to brace his centre when the laughs he tried to trap in his chest dared to spill from his lips at the pair.

He wasn’t as widely read as the two across him, but he was known to enjoy a book or two in his free time. Most of the time their discussions, often morphing into something much more like debates, would go over his head after a certain point, but he still liked to listen (sometimes even chime in) to their banter enjoying the passion and animated gestures and features they would display in the heat of the moment.

Joaquin, who had not been assigned recon duty, was at the bar, leaning against the worn wood with a brunette’s leg, who was seated on one of the stools, tucked between his as he whispered sinful nothings in the boy’s ears. The boy wasn’t someone they recognized and looked, in fact, very Northside. They thought nothing of it though, figuring it was the new guy Joaquin was always talking about these days, to the point where they wished he would shut the hell up about _Kevin_ because they just knew too damn much.

They didn’t need to know how he smelled like Christmas morning or how his hair was incredibly soft and thick or that his favourite colour was blue, like Joaquin’s eyes and they really didn’t need to know about the amazing things he could do with his mouth.

The group walked over to Jughead, stiff limbs and dirt smudged clothing all too telling of what they had been doing all night.

“Juggie, come on, it’s a good damn book. Yes, it does have its clichés and I’m not saying he is up there with Kerouac or Salinger but he is talented and it’s a damn fine piece of writing!” Betty lets out all in one breath, chest heaving as she tries to suck in the much need oxygen after ramping down from another heated conversation about this particular novel.

The boys and the two female Serpents who had been on the mission don’t want to interrupt, but they use the lull in conversion to butt in.

“Excuse me, sir” Jade starts, clearing her throat to strengthen her voice.

It’s almost comical to watch the change in Jughead, before the interruption his posture was loose, an almost beaming, carefree smile alighting his face and his eyes wide and bright. But, the moment Jade addresses him he’s no longer Betty’s Jughead, he’s Serpent leader Jughead who’s all stiff shoulders and hard eyes with a mouth set in a firm line.

Betty turns to the Serpents, just noticing their presence and smiles at the group, even sending them a small wave with dancing fingers.

Each of them sends her a small smile or nod before directing their gazes back to Jug, they respect her, she is the Serpent Queen after all, even if she doesn’t quite know it.

“What did you find?” Jughead asks, voice hard and completely different than before.

“They have a lot of guys, close to 250 I’m betting if last night is anything to go on,” Jade begins, lips pursing sourly at this, “they are packing too, each person was carrying at least one gun that we could see plus the definite possibility of knives and shit.” She finishes, shaking her head like it was her own fault.

Sweet Pea can’t help but perk up at this, very interested in what their rebuttal is going to be against the Ghoulie trash that did this to him, but Jughead just nods, his face schooled into an emotionless expression.

“Well, what the fuck are we going to do now?” Sweet Pea growls, his upper lip curling in anger. “We have a lot of guys-” Jade gives him a sideways glance and clears her throat dramatically “We have a lot of _Serpents_ ” he corrects “but not enough to come close to their numbers.”

Jughead doesn’t seem surprised at Sweet Pea’s outburst and in fact looks more like he was expecting it. He draws the lingering members closer with a wave of his hand, a simple gesture but full of authority as he stands. A few older members of the Serpents take this moment to enter and make their way over to their younger leader, greying beards and further worn leather standing out against the younger members bright eyes and matching jackets.

“We’re going to weaken their defenses and lower their numbers,” their leader announces, crossing his arms over one another and resting them against his chest.

“How the hell do we do that?” Sweets asks, ignoring the painful pull of his stitches, confusion clear in his voice but no sign of doubt.

Sweet Pea had known Jughead and many, if not most, of the Serpents for as long as he can remember. It was almost second nature to trust the gang of misfits that surrounded him on a daily basis; when he looked at the snakes surrounding him he didn’t see gang members or thugs or even leaders and followers, he saw family. He would put his life on the line for each and every one of them and knows they would do the same, hell, wasn’t that exactly what they were doing right now?

“We just completed phase one, getting all the information on the Ghoulies; the first thing you wanna know when you’re going after someone is what exactly you’re dealing with. Now we know their numbers and what their packing, along with their comings and goings. It was only one night, however, so I’m going to send different groups out every night for a week to ensure our intel is solid.” Jughead explains, meeting the eyes of Serpent members to gauge their reactions.

Most members seemed receptive of the plan, but looking back on it now it was obvious who had a problem with his words, who had a problem with him all along. If only he paid more attention.

“What’s the next step, then?” Jade asks, shoulders braced like she was ready to throw down that minute if it came to it.

“Once recon is complete then we use what we know to pull them apart, reduce their numbers, and break them down so they are fighting against one another instead of us. The more of them they can get rid of the less we actually have to deal with. We don’t have to fight them all, we just have to get them to fight one another.”

Jughead continues, shoulders squaring and chin raising before he speaks: “Our goal is not to start a turf war or hurt their defenses. Our goal is to completely destroy them; once we are through with them the Ghoulies won’t even fucking exist anymore, they’ll just be a pitiful memory, an example of what happens if you mess with the Serpents.” He concludes, his hand coming to rest on Betty’s hip who had joined his side.

There’s a moment of silence, a beat of uncertainty, before throaty cheers erupt, accompanied by pumping fists and wide grins.

The Ghoulies really didn’t know who they were messing with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it was pretty short but I liked where everything kind of naturally ended and like I said each phase will have it's own chapter. I also can't believe we are on chapter 18 already, what?! Anyway, I hope everyone liked this chapter; please leave a comment below letting me know your favourite parts/quotes and maybe any theories you have for where things will go next.


	19. Phase Two: Regret

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! I know it has been a hot minute since I've written a chapter but I honestly haven't been too inspired till now. I hope you all enjoy this chapter as I did something a little bit different that I haven't really done before, let me know if you like it! Comments are loved and appreciated, let me know what parts you liked best and what you think could use some work!
> 
> Warning: Discussion of drugs, child abuse, and violence

Jingle Jangle is a funny thing. It was something that everyone knew about, but no one talked about. It was almost taboo in Riverdale. Most people think that maple syrup is what keeps the town afloat, but it was, in fact, something much more sinister.

Jughead can’t exactly pinpoint when it started when Riverdale was swallowed by darkness and greed forever tainting the town and all in it, but he has an idea.

_The streets, made of freshly paved roads and adorning sidewalks, were decorated with large wicker baskets full of wildflowers from around the town, the sun beaming down on them and the soft breeze rustling the greenery. The town was busy, as always, mothers and fathers at their 9-5, children frolicking in the playground attached to the school, and seniors going about their day and enjoying the happy faces around them. Yes, the Southside in 1993 was a very different time._

_It was at this time that a young FP Jones had started showing interest in his fathers Serpent duties. His father, who tried to beat the Serpent life into one too many times over the years, was of course, thrilled. On the other side of Southside, a similar story could be found for the Ghoulie prince._

_It’s an all too familiar story, one that FP’s father had promised to stray away from when he had his own kids, but alas, destiny has a funny way of creating the perfect storm; mix in a little too much drinking, a failed high school career, and a cheating wife and you have the perfect recipe for a Serpent King trying to succeed at the only thing he has left._

_Fast forward a few years and FP is the Serpent King, his father now six feet under in an early grave. A cause of death should be an easy thing to pinpoint, but it wasn’t, FP called it a toss-up between the Serpent lifestyle and the hole in his heart that was there long before he came along and only seemed to grow until it swallowed him whole._

_The Serpent’s in FP’s days were a dirty bunch, they functioned off drug deals and hired hits, doing quite well for themselves actually, till an addiction or two from their fearless leader met a deal he couldn’t refuse which left them with empty pockets and black eyes. They recovered, of course, snakes are a resilient creature, but they never took back the crown in the drug dealing department, which now belonged to the Ghoulies._

_It is, however, worth it to note in all fairness that the drugs the Serpents pushed were a much different breed than that of the Ghoulies. You see, the difference between the young Ghoulie prince who had a life all too similar to FP’s was that the kid was a whiz in science and math, graduating top of his class. These skills and the others that rubbed off on him throughout the years all added up to the creation of their very own drug: Jingle Jangle._

_It started small, a free hit when you bought some coke or weed, or a couple of grams here and there, but over the course of a year, it became the hottest drug in Riverdale and the surrounding towns. Over the years, which seem to blink by in an instant, more and more of the town was fueled by the substance, using the profits to build up the Northside into what it is today. The Southside, despite being the source of the powdered money maker was left to deteriorate, seen as dirty and filled with gang bangers who did little besides sell drugs and commit crime. This only made the Ghoulies more angry, sick of living in their conditions while the drugs they pushed paved the way for a sweeter life on the other side of town. If it were a different scenario, you would almost feel bad for them. They created a business and were seen as dirty scum because of it, even though Northsider bills lined their wallets and they loved Jingle Jangle most of all they still looked down on anyone from the Southside like they were less than the dirt on their boot._

_Since the rival gangs couldn’t take their anger out on the Northside, because you never kill paying customers, they only had each other to blame. And so, began the start of a gang war, not fueled by drugs and money as it seems, but by the separating of classes and the hypocritical members of their town that will go on for decades and only come to a head all these years later._

_A decade flashed before FP’s eyes before he knew it and somehow, despite everything he tried, he ended up with his own son, fighting in a gang war that he was much too young for and he himself rotting behind bars for life. He thinks most days, his father got out lucky dying in his thirties. His heart, despite being broken all these years, still aches for his son especially, because he knows what’s waiting for him: an addiction in his genes, a crappy education with nothing to fall back on besides a life of crime, and a shitty, god-awful taste in women._

_Destiny is a fickle bitch and no one knows that better than a Jones’._

So, when did it all start? When the Ghoulies created Jingle Jangle? When the Northside became better than the Southside? Or do you have to go farther back then that, was it when FP became the Serpent King? When the young Ghoulie prince of his day aced his first science test? Or was it at the beginning of the Serpents and Ghoulies? When the gangs themselves were formed out of a need for protection and a fondness for motorcycles and weed.

Jughead, however, has spent many hours tracing back the events of the town and the beginning of it all and come to the sour conclusion that he, in fact, was the catalyst that started it all. When he first became Serpent King, not that many years ago, he vowed to clean up the Serpents and bring them back to their former glory.

_Jughead had just become the Serpent King, at the young age of 17 when his father announced he was heading to the slammer in front of the members and draped his much too big jacket across the lanky boys’ shoulders. Jughead had felt his shoulders buckle under it and was surprised to find the weight of a Serpent King jacket was much heavier than he expected._

_Jughead was involved with the Serpents from a young age, but his experience included small-time crime, a few runs, and bike repairs, the latter he much more enjoyed._

_Once his father was gone, a mere two weeks later, it was all up to him. Some members, the older ones especially, resented him and challenged his leadership. After the first couple of months, which were rocky at best, Jug got a handle on his leadership and had begun to turn a profit. They still meddled in crime and dirty dealings, they are a gang after all, but he worked on expanding the bar and mechanic shop down the road. It was a new kind of leadership and despite the hesitation at first, people had grown to respect it._

_The months slowly turned into a year and then two, the Serpents were better than ever before, thriving in their businesses and participating in a few schemes here and there. Jug was now 18, almost 19, and had begun to fill out the jacket, his shoulders broad and straight, barring the weight much easier now. Of course, there were issues and they still participated in things they probably shouldn’t, but it was better._

_In his third year of leadership, Jughead had started finding ways to cut the Ghoulies supply on Jingle Jangle, nothing major, but it was something. The Serpents and Ghoulies had never struggled against each other for the number one spot more than they did now if one were to simply cross the border into Southside they could feel the tension in the air. Despite the fights, bloodshed, and lost product and business over the years the war stayed simmering beneath the surface._

_His fourth year as the Serpent King is when he met Betty and after the first few weeks of their whirlwind romance which quickly grew into months, Jughead wished, despite everything that he had done, that his dad was there to see him defy destiny one more time._

_But perhaps, he wasn’t, perhaps his destiny was Betty and all that was to follow in the war against the Ghoulies. Jughead had thought, despite a hard life with many and albeit all rough patches, that destiny often worked in his favour, in the small ways at least, sliding by unnoticed by cops, skipping out on the addict gene that seemed to run through his blood, having a family in the Serpents, and then, of course best of all, meeting Betty and finding the perfect Serpent Queen in her. Maybe this was all of part of destiny’s plan, to give him the world and then rip it away, to watch him crumble._

The second phase of the plan is where the frayed edges of his plot began to pull apart at the seems. Looking back, it was reckless, stupid, fuelled by revenge and hate, which are the very things that started the war in the first place. But he didn’t see any of that now, he only saw what he wanted.

It was silent outside, the kind of quiet where you could hear your blood pumping, this was the first sign. The Serpents, who couldn’t match the Ghoulies in numbers but were banking on stealth and fighting abilities, were making their way into the heart of the Ghoulie Kingdom, the drug den where Jingle Jangle was created, stocked, and shipped out.

When they entered the building, they expected guards and guns but were met with empty air and more silence, this was the second sign.

“I guess the good thing about going after dealers is, they are too whacked out on their own product to guard it,” Jughead mussed, a slight arrogance colouring his tone.

The group of Serpents with too many to name made their way upstairs, following the glowing pink light that spilled down the staircase. They rounded the corner at the top of the stairs, checking their surroundings as they went only coming in contact with a few Ghoulies who were quite easily knocked out. Until finally, they made it to the room they were looking for. The pink glow was even brighter now, rivaling that of even Toni’s hair, and spilling freely through the glass door entrance. A keypad locked the door, but they expected this and with the help of a certain tech wizard they were in a matter of minutes.

They were in, Jughead couldn’t believe it. After all their planning, recon, and surveillance they had made it.

“Everyone knows what to do, get to it,” Jughead directly firmly with a nod of his head.

After that, everything happened so fast and was set into motion. The plan was to make it look like their own guys took their supply, so they had to be smart about what they did with this. The Serpents took the supply, instead of destroying it on scene, and even shoved a few of the pixie sticks, emptying some of them for effect, into the passed-out Ghoulies pockets. Once that was done, a few of the stronger Serpents moved the unconscious Ghoulies a couple of miles away in an abandoned warehouse on discarded mattresses to make it look like they got high and passed out. They stuck to every detail of the plan, throwing a dirty shovel beside them and even dirtying up their boots and the edges of their jeans to reinforce the idea that they buried the drugs somewhere for themselves.

It all seemed too easy, but at the time they were too clouded with the pride of their success to give it another thought.

“I can’t believe we fucking did that, Jug,” Toni all but yelled on the walk back to their bikes which were stashed in the woods a ways away.

“I’m just glad it worked. I can’t wait to hear about the shit storm that goes down once Malachi finds out,” Jug replied with a shake of his head which was backed up by a surrounding of murmured agreements from other members.

The Snakes all got onto their bikes, the roar of the engines loud in the dead of night and the flash of their headlights illuminating the trees and casting shadows in the sky. It was close to three in the morning when they finally took off down the winding, crumbled pavement to the bar they called home. And as crazy as it sounds with the wind wiping by them and the full moon above them guiding their way in the darkness, they have never felt freer than they did at that moment.

Only when did they step foot back in the bar were they greeted with the beginning of the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well? What did everyone think! I love the tension in this chapter as I felt it was just building the entire time, I was going to give you some more, but this is where it naturally stopped. What do you think is the terrible thing waiting for them in the Whyte Wyrm? Also, how did everyone feel about the flashback/backstory portion? I used some stuff from the recent flashback episode to inspire me but the rest were my own ideas, I really enjoyed writing it and although we don't really get any bughead this chapter I thought the history and how it all came to be was important to get into. Please leave a comment they are my favourite!


	20. Phase Three: Rescue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone! Yes, it's me again, so soon. I was so happy to see everyone loved the last chapter and came back to this story after such a long time without uploading. I was so inspired I got this chapter out ASAP. I hope everyone likes it, let me know what you think in the comments. Also, can I just say I can't believe we are on chapter 20!
> 
> Warning: This chapter is extremely dark and contains themes of sexual harassment, violence, guns/knives, and depictions of blood and abuse

When the crowd of rowdy bikers with smiles on their faces entered the bar, they were met with a sight that was the thing of nightmares. The bar was trashed, table tops turned over onto their sides, chairs were broken and splintering, and dozens of shattered liquor bottles and glasses were on the floor leaving a sparkling trail to what was left behind. The overhead lights which normally dangled from above were slanted and smashed or completely cut down, leaving the only source of light to be a neon sign illuminating an eerie message scrawled in blood on the wall: WE HAVE YOUR QUEEN.

The members all stood, frozen to the spot unable to think or move. They had all become fond of the perky blonde that had joined their leaders’ side and considered her one of their own. At that moment, the same thought occurred to everyone, but no one dare say it out loud.

“Betty!” Jughead’s voice ripped through the silence, shattering the bliss from their earlier rebellion. He tore from the crowd, making his way towards the back stairs, boots slapping against the worn wood and further crunching the glass beneath his feet. He tripped once, twice, his long limbs tangling beneath him before finally making his way inside their apartment.

It too was destroyed, their home torn apart at the seams. Furniture was tossed over and pictures hung crooked on the wall or broken on the floor. He raced through the apartment, pulling back curtains and looking under beds and in closets, searching for any sign of the blonde but found none. She was gone.

“Betty,” he said again, but this time it was much quieter, more of a broken whisper, as he slid to the ground because his legs just couldn’t hold him anymore.

A picture frame lay beside him, the glass covering shattered but the photo still visible. It was a photo of them, on his bike by Sweet Water River, Betty was laughing her head tilted back and eyes shining and Jughead was looking at her with all the love and wonder in the world. Betty had declared it as one of her favourite photos because of this and framed it. And now here it was, broken and shattered along with everything else.

Jughead, surrounded by the broken remains of his home and his life, wasn’t sure what to do so he put his head in his hands and cried. He cried for his ruined home. He cried for losing Betty, the only light in his life at times. He cried for finally having his destiny fuelled in the worst way, the way his father had always warned him about.

However, there’s one thing you should know about a Jones is that they aren’t the best at dealing with emotions; almost all negative ones turn to rage and this time wasn’t any different.

The other Serpents, who remained downstairs stood around the bar, some having moved from their rooted spots while others remained, taking in the ruins around them and trying to ignore their leader’s painful sobs and screams of agony that traveled all too clearly down the stairs.

“I can’t believe…” Joaquin started, but unable to find the words he just let them hang there.

Toni, one of the toughest Serpents, was almost in a puddle of tears at the thought of her new-found friend, no, sister, being taken or worse, dead. Her heart broke, not only for her loss and the other Serpents but for Jughead who would never be the same.

Sweets, who was recovering well and despite everything had managed to come on the mission with them, was beside himself. During his recovery he had grown even closer to the blonde, learning about her life and funny quirks that make her who she is. She was the sweetest and strongest person he had ever met and this was just wrong.

 _When were they finally just allowed to be happy?_ He thought to himself, biting into his lip till the metallic taste of blood filled his mouth.

“We’re going to find her,” Jughead announced, surprising the other Serpents as he came barreling down the staircase with red-rimmed eyes and a gun tucked into his waistband. “I need everyone to come with me with as much firepower as we fucking got and if you don’t wanna come, you’re out.” He continued, voice hard as ice and brow furrowed in anger and determination.

“I can’t speak for everyone,” Sweets began, looking around at his fellow Serpents “but I consider Betty family and we don’t leave family behind.” A chorus of agreement came from behind him, no one was giving up on her. If Jughead wasn’t so utterly pissed and heartbroken, he would have been touched.

“Glad to hear it,” Jug relied with a nod before walking towards the back room and handing out any and all weapons they had on stock.

“There’s more of them than us, we have to go in hot and heavy and no matter what we have to come out with her,” he growled, ignoring the distinct possibility that it might already be too late.

The other nodded in agreement, letting the sound of bullet casings clicking into place fill the air instead of words.

“We have to get her back,” Jug muttered to himself, using the back of his hand to wipe under his eyes harshly before tucking a knife into his boot.

“Hey,” Toni said her voice solid and strong because that’s what he needed, “we’re going to walk right into that fucking place and get her back, don’t you worry.” She emphasized her last point with a squeeze of his arm and a small smile.

Jughead, whose anger was starting to turn into watery eyes and a clogged-up throat, only wrapped his arm around Toni’s shoulders pulling her in for a hug as a reply.

Toni fisted her hands in the leather of his jacket, enjoying the comforting feel of the worn material before pulling away “Let’s go find your girl.”

Jughead and the other Serpents had gathered what weapons they could carry and made their way out of the bar. Jug, who was leading the group paused before exiting taking a moment to turn back towards the bloody inscription, letting his rage fill him, till his fists were curled and his teeth grinding against one another.

“I want Malachi’s head on a fucking stick!” he bellowed, his voice loud and harsh as it bounced off the wooden walls.

Some of the younger Serpents, who had seen fewer miles flinched at the tone of his voice, having never seen their leader like this. But, to be fair, no one had every seen Jughead like this before. He stood ramrod straight with fury eminent in his crystal orbs and with what seemed like a dark cloud surrounding him. His jaw was clenched so tightly that those closest to him could hear the groan of his teeth beneath the pressure and see the slight spasm in his muscles from holding the position.

He used his hand, that wasn’t clutching a pistol, to rip off his famous crowned beanie, before throwing it on the ground and making his way outside. The other Serpents, some who had seen him without it before on rare occasions but most who hadn’t, took this as a sign for the war that was about to take place. With hurried footsteps, they made their way back towards the bikes they had just dismounted. With a flick of a few dozen wrists, the machines were brought to life, roaring under the full moon. The bikes themselves almost sounded angry, the rumble of the engines louder and meaner than ever before. In only a matter of moments, they had taken back off down the road, with Jughead leading the way, leaving behind them a dusty trail and a dirty, rolled up beanie.

On the other side of town, in a large warehouse with sectioned off rooms filled with Ghoulies lay the very blonde the Serpent’s were searching for, tied up in a puddle of her own blood.

“Wake up,” came a sharp voice, drifting through the fog of the young girl’s head who’s only reply was a groan.

“I said,” the voice came again, with a razor-like edge “wake up!” he finished, puncturing his last words with a kick to her middle.

“Fuck!” the blonde yelled, blood sputtering out of her mouth and spraying across the cement when she cried out.

“Better,” came the smug voice from above her, enjoying the sight before him.

Betty had managed to roll onto her back, ignoring the burn of the rope against her limbs as she did so, and finally open her eyes to take in her surroundings. It took a few blinks till the blurry haze cleared but finally, she could see the shadowy figure leaning above her. His hair was dark, that much she could tell, and longer than Jughead’s, it fell in tight curls around his face and was parted messily in the middle. He had a strong brow and a wide smile on his face that showed every one of his teeth. He was dressed in some sort of studded long coat that brushed the backs of knees but exposed his bare chest, despite the frigid weather.

 _If he didn’t look like such a psychopath_ , Betty thinks to herself, _he might almost be handsome._

“Rise and shine blondie, you have a group of people to entertain,” he sang, his voice piercing to her pounding head.

“Fuck you,” Betty spat, literally, spewing blood against the man’s boots. She was pushed around all her life and was refusing to let it happen again.

“Now, now, princess. That’s no way to treat your new friends,” he tsked, scooping the blonde up under her arms and dragging her over to the others. She struggled for a moment, limbs flailing and curling looking for something to hold onto, before losing her strength all at once and collapsing in a heap, if it wasn’t for his hands holding her up, she’s sure she would have hit the cement.

It didn’t seem hard for the man to drag her around, he tossed her in the center of a group of people all wearing their own version of studded furs and leather like she was nothing more than a rag doll.

“Dance,” he stated, gesture to a pole that emerged from the cement and ran into the ceiling and into, what she can only assume is the next floor. It wasn’t a stripper pole, per se, it looked more like a part of the structure of the building rather than something installed for their pleasure, but she’s sure it got the job done all the same.

Betty, who could feel something warm dripping down the side of her head and upon further investigation found a matting of red marring her blonde locks, opened her mouth for a snarky reply, but couldn’t seem to form one. Instead, she shook her head then crossed her arms for good measure.

The man, who she still wasn’t quite sure was, crouched down in front of her balancing on the heels of his studded combat boots before leaning in close to whisper: “Don’t make me ask you again, I would hate to scar such a pretty face.” To further prove his point, he brushed his thumb along the arch of her cheek, enjoying the way she recoiled before standing straight again and gesturing to the pole.

Betty, who was all fire and determination, suddenly felt extinguished and powerless and it was a feeling she was all too used to growing up. She wanted to be angry at this man for making her feel this way, she wanted to scream at him and the world for dealing her such a shitty hand in life, she wanted to cry and stomp her feet and yell: _This isn’t fair. This isn’t right._ But, she just didn’t have the energy.

So, she got up on her knees, which only caused his smirk to grow, and used the pole to pull herself onto unsteady feet. The room spun around her, figures splitting and turning into triplets before merging again and winding around the room in a blur of colours. It was like a slide show put on full speed played before her eyes while she was on a rollercoaster and if she had anything in her stomach, she was sure it would be spewed across the floor.

“Get dancing, blondie!” a lanky blonde called, a cigarette dangling from his lips.

His voice sounded like nails being hammered into her brain, each syllable pounding against her skull and further blurring her vision. She leaned back against the pole, enjoying the feeling of the cool cement against her skin, before she realized that she was undressed, her once white, now red tinted, undergarments the only piece of modesty she had left.

She wanted to cry. She wanted to laugh. She wanted to die.

A chorus of “Dance!” could be heard around her, all beginning to form into a constant ring in her ears.

So, as best as she could with unsteady limbs and hazy vision, she danced, swaying her hips half-heartedly and wrapping her limbs around the slightly too big pole to swing around it. In the distance, or what sounded very far away, she could hear the cheer of men who found pleasure in her pain. Pretending she was okay was something she had been practicing all her life, she had been working on her emotions and how to properly express them for weeks with her therapist, but now it seemed she had reverted back to her old ways, if only for survival. A smile, carved into her cheeks out of pain and denial, wide and completely fake filled her features as she swung around the concrete slab, ignoring the rush to her head, the pain in her limbs, and the sting from her tears.

It didn’t take long for her to tire, she was surprised she lasted this long if she was being honest with herself, between the lack of food and water, her injuries, and god knows how much blood loss she was sure the only thing keeping her upright was adrenaline, but even that wears off after awhile. For the past five minutes, her movements had gotten even shakier, clumsier, until her last spin which had her landing right on her ass.

Suddenly, the cheering stopped, only to be replaced by an eerie silenced followed by the all too familiar sound of thudding boots.

“What exactly do you think you’re doing?” The curly haired man asked, glaring down at the woozy blonde.

“I…I,” Betty tried, her tongue tied in knots and the words escaping her till she finally, lamely, uttered: “I fell?”

The man only laughed, a booming deep laugh that was anything but humourous. “Do you think I’m an idiot?” he asked, his voice dangerously calm.

She wanted to answer, she really did, but it took so much effort to keep her eyes open and sitting up that she just couldn’t add talking to the list of functions, so she remained silent. Unfortunately for her, she learned the hard way that this was the wrong move.

“Answer me god damn it!” he screamed, voice anything but calm and breaking on the last syllable.

And for some reason, one she’s not sure she will ever understand, this unleashed something feral inside of her, something angry and downright stupid. She used her last bit of strength to lean up and spit a mouthful of blood right into his face and then smiled wide with red tinted teeth and chapped lips. It was dumb, she’ll admit that, but it was so much more satisfying than it was idiotic.

At this, the crowd quieted further, something she didn’t think was possible till it happened, and his face turned stoic. It was the calm before the storm, she could tell. She recognized the look on his face, had seen it one too many times, she knew what was coming. A fraction of a second later, she got what she expected in the form of his hand connecting with her face which sent her head back against the pole with a sickening crack. Her vision was beginning to tunnel, darkening at the edges till the only thing she could see was him advancing, knife in hand. She felt his fingers knot into her hair before he yanked her upwards, her legs limp and knees knocking against one another. His eyes were impossibly black and emotionless besides the swirl of rage she could make out around his pupil. This was the last thing she saw before it all went back.

Amidst the nothingness she was now in, floating in the darkness, she couldn’t help but be glad this is how it all ends. She wishes she had more time, of course, but she got to have Jughead and Toni and Sweets and Kevin and Joaquin and Veronica and so many more wonderful things and people these past few months that she didn’t think she would ever have. To most, this would seem like a bitter end to a sad story that ended much too soon, but to her, it was a peaceful ending with so much to be grateful for.

Outside the warehouse, where the sun was beginning to crest over the horizon and break apart the clouds in streams of oranges and reds the rumble of approaching motorcycles could be heard. It had taken them nearly all night, but the Serpents had finally found the warehouse they were looking for. Dawn was quickly approaching but there was still a rolling fog remaining from the night that curled up and over the edges of the bikes as the rolled to a stop in front of the building. Jughead, who was at the front of the crowd, took off his helmet and turned towards the others.

“This is their last warehouse and based on the number of lights on and the bikes outside she’s got to be in there. I know we’re all tired and we’ve been searching Riverdale all night but I need everyone ready to fight.” He explained, flicking his bike off and kicking the stand down to steady it before swinging his leg over the machine.

The other Serpents followed suit, without an ounce of hesitation. They were ready for battle, to rescue their queen, no matter what it took.

The group made their way inside the building, not bothering to keep quiet knowing their bikes had already announced their arrival. With guns drawn and jaws locked they made their way upstairs, perhaps not ready for anything but willing to fight against it anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well?! What did everyone think? I know, another cliffhanger but that's kinda what I do! My heart broke for Betty this chapter and Jughead too (all the Serpents actually). Were any of you expecting this turn of events? Let me know what you thought and if you saw this coming in the comments! Hope everyone enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it.


	21. Phase Four: Reunited

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, again! Thank you, everyone, for your wonderful comments, they mean a lot! They also helped inspire me and get this chapter out way sooner than I thought. I hope everyone enjoys it, be sure to leave a comment letting me know your favourite line!
> 
> Warning: Mentions of blood, violence, guns/weapons, death, murder, and abuse

Darkness. That’s all she could see before her, an empty pit of black nothingness. It was so dark in fact she wasn’t sure if her eyes were even open or not. She tried to reach her hand out in front of her, to catch the movement between the shadows but found she couldn’t move. It felt like she was floating in the darkness, the black abyss swallowing her whole until there was nothing left, not her eyes or her fingers, just nothing.

 _Is this what death is like?_ She couldn’t help but wonder, thinking it the only possible explanation for what she was feeling, which was simply: empty. She couldn’t hear a thing, not the sound of her blood pumping or the whoosh of her breath, not the wind outside or the pound of the music, there was just nothing.

Maybe this whole time there wasn’t a heaven or hell after you die, maybe it was just this: an empty chasm, for eternity. Betty wanted to cry at this, to be sad or at least angry, but she couldn’t feel a damn thing. If she could feel anything at all, she thinks that would scare her the most; the only thing worse than pain is feeling nothing at all.

It takes a while, how long she isn’t sure because in the darkness time doesn’t seem to be real or even a factor at all, but she hears something. It’s low at first, a buzzing that couldn’t be distinguished as anything, but eventually, it clears enough and she recognizes it. She knows that noise, she’s heard it before, she can’t pinpoint exactly where and maybe that’s because her brain is a puddle of mush in her skull from the pounding it took, but she knows it’s a Serpent.

The darkness begins to fray at the edges, the blanket of black pulling apart a strand at a time till light fills her vision. The light swirls, tunneling then expanding till all she sees is white.  Even though she can’t make out shapes or figures it’s so much better than the darkness.

“Jesus Christ, Malachi, I didn’t think you would fucking kill her.” The voice she recognizes spits, syllables hard and rough as the roll over his tongue.

The name rings a bell but it takes her a moment to place it like her memories are scattered in her head and she isn’t sure where to pull them from.

His reply is muffled like she’s listening through a door or their conversation is taking place at the bottom of a swimming pool but she manages to make out: “Does it really matter? Jughead will come either way and then we’ll kill him and all those other snakes too.”

Her throat tightens, her ears start to ring, and the darkness begins to spin and blanket across her eyes. Betty wants to scream out, thrash her fists into the ground, and kick her legs out at them both and whoever else wants to hurt her family, but she just can’t seem to move. The light is fading, darkening at the edges and streaking across her vision till all she can see are stripes. Suddenly, she’s exhausted. She wants to rest, give into the growing darkness and fade away, but she can’t give up on her family. She’s given up on herself before, dozens of times, but she could never give up on them.

They were her salvation when she needed them most.

They were her friends when she had none.

They were her support system when she broke down.

They were everything a family was _supposed_ to be, they loved her, unconditionally, without boundaries or limits.

And they would never give up on her, so there’s no way in hell she’s giving up on them.

And like she was the puppet master of the strings of darkness that crossed her vision, one by one they started to lift, till only light remained.

“I’m going to get my cut, right?” comes the voice she recognizes again, “I told you their plan to destroy the stash and helped you get the blonde bitch, I did everything I promised.”

Betty may be half dead and barely conscious on the floor, but she knows a traitor when she hears one. Whoever this person was, they were no Serpent, not anymore.

“Of course, you’ve been good to the Ghoulies and now we are going to be good to you,” Malachi promises a sinister edge that even Betty could pick up lacing his words.

Betty, who had been told a lot of information over the past few months, not just from Jughead, had learned exactly what happens to a double agent. If they snitched on their own people, who’s to say they won’t do the same to you? They are only as good as their intel, after that, they’re a liability, at best.

Despite her state of unconsciousness, or whatever the hell this was, she needed to find a way to warn the Serpents, she couldn’t let them get hurt because of her. She tries to move, even a finger, but it’s like her blood is made of cement and her bones are carved from marble. She can’t even feel her limbs at this point, she knows they are there but it’s like she’s detached from her body, unable to move or make a sound. She tries again, but this time she tries to open her eyes instead, which are crusted shut with dried blood and tears that had long since taken residence on her lashes. It isn’t easy and probably takes an embarrassingly long amount of time but she finally opens them a crack, just enough to see into the room and the figures before her.

She doesn’t see much at first, just blobs of colour and blurry figures, but then, her vision clears, sharpening at the edges and filling in the details. The first thing she sees is the man from before, the one who made her dance; her brain, which was still surprisingly functioning, had finally put together that this was Malachi, Ghoulie King. The other figure, who was older and not quite as tall as the lanky gang leader also came into focus, his scruffy appearance and leather attire all too familiar.

Further down, but only by a few floors, the Serpents made their way up a back staircase leaving a trail of blood and bodies in their wake; some were limping or bleeding, all were bruised and sore. Shell casings covered the floor and splatters of blood decorated the walls in a disturbingly beautiful abstract.

Jughead, who usually wasn’t this much of a violent person, didn’t care who got in his way, he would kill his way through the Ghoulies one by one if he had to. His clothes, all black, were smeared with blood, some his and some not, but at this point, it was impossible to separate. The others, who fought at his side till the teeth gritting, knuckle busting end were following him up the staircase weapons trained and ready for what was to come, whatever that may be.

They’re all tired and bloody, beaten and bruised, but most of all they are determined. They had finally made it to the top floor, not without a few battle wounds, to the room that housed what they were looking for: their queen. Jughead stands in the center of the group at the front, the rest of his faithful men and women soldiers flanking behind them. They aren’t sure what’s going to be on the other side of this door, but they are ready to face whatever it is.

Jughead doesn’t hesitate and swiftly lifts his foot up to the slab door, before kicking it as hard as he can dead center. The door slams open, reverberating off the cement wall before coming to stop. The first thing Jughead sees is Betty, unsettlingly still on the floor. Her skin is impossibly pale, the only colour on her flesh being the smears of dried blood.

The fluorescent lighting of the warehouse reminds him of the first night they shared together in Pop’s and for a moment Jug is transported back to that evening, and he wonders how that could feel like a lifetime ago. It seems like an entirely different Betty and Jughead shared milkshakes and burgers in the vinyl booth he grew up in.

He acts quickly, the flickering of the light breaking his daze, and makes his way over to Betty. Jughead drops down beside her, knees cracking loudly against the cement as he takes her into his arms. She’s almost naked and he can’t help the clench of his jaw at the thought of what they did to her, what they made her do. His uses his jacket as a blanket, draping it across her limbs and center and tucking the worn leather collar beneath her chin. There’s a lump in his throat that he can’t seem to swallow and it’s keeping him from calling out her name or worse, from admitting what’s going on, saying it out loud and making it real.

“Jughead?” asks Toni and he doesn’t even have to turn around or pay attention to thick curvature his name takes when she speaks it to know that she is crying.

He uses his hand, that’s split open at the seams with blood oozing out and decorated in bruises and a speckling of scars, to brush back her hair. It’s matted and dirty, a mixture of blood, dirt, and tears clinging to her blonde locks but it’s still Betty. Even her face, that’s bruised and swollen with a river of red trailing down her temple, is still her.

“My beautiful Betty,” he finally manages, despite the lump still deposited in his throat. “What have they done to you?”

It’s silent in the room, despite the war waging all around them, none of them can seem to hear a thing. That’s why, when Betty lets out the littlest groan of pain, their heads all snap up and Jughead’s lump all but disappears.

“Betty!” he cries, for what seems like the millionth time that night, but this time in joy.

It takes a moment, or two, but the blonde finally manages to pry open her eyes. She winces at the light at first and tries to blink away the harsh contrast; but then it happens, there’s not darkness or blinding light, but instead, what she wanted to see since the moment she got here: Jughead.

“Oh baby,” he breathes, bottom lip wobbling and an overflowing cascade of tears running down his cheeks. If it were any other person, he might be embarrassed, ashamed even, because that’s just how he was raised, but the relief and happiness he feels at that moment were all-encompassing, clouding over any other thought and he just couldn’t find it in himself to give a damn.

Betty, who feels like she has had one of the worst, yet best, years of her life, had never been happier to see him. If she was honest with herself, she wasn’t sure she was ever going to again; and that thought, above all, even the fear of dying, was the worst one. But he was here, this was real, and she just wanted to tell him how much she loves him.

“Are you okay?” he begins, voice frantic and much too high “Oh my god, of course, you’re not okay, I’m such a fucking idiot. Where does it hurt? Do you think anything is broken? Can you talk? Can you walk?” He pauses, only to suck in a much-needed breath before continuing: “Who did this to you? What did they do to you? Where are you bleeding from? What-” but before he can continue with his barrage of questions, she stops him with a simple word: “Jug,” and although her voice is hoarse from a mixture of crying and misuse Jughead swears he’s never heard anything so beautiful.

“Yeah Betts’s,” he asks, ignoring the sting from his bloody lip as a smile stretches onto his face.

“You’re not wearing your hat,” she finishes, voice wavering like it takes everything in her to say it as her fingers come up to dance between the strands of loose waves.

Jughead, who thought a million times that night he would never feel her touch again, couldn’t contain the morphed sob of laughter that tumbled from his lips, even if he wanted to.

“I’m so fucking sorry,” he cried, leaning into her touch for a moment before softly pulling her flush against him, his arms coming to wrap around her in a protective embrace. “I’ll never leave you again,” he promises, enjoying the feeling of her fingers curled and buried in his messy locks.

Forty-seven. In the twenty-two hours, Betty had been missing Jughead had smoked forty-seven cigarettes. It wasn’t healthy, for his lungs or his psyche and it probably said a lot more about him that he would ever openly admit, but seeing her, alive and smiling, fucking joking, after everything, made him never want to pick up a cigarette again.

“T-there’s something I have to tell you,” she begins, licking her cracked, dry lips as she speaks.

“Take it easy, Betts.” Jug replies worry evident in his entire being.

“It’s important,” she reassures, struggling to sit up for a moment before decided instead to just lean against him. “I know who the traitor is, he’s the one who told them about your plan and helped the Ghoulies take me.”

“Who?” he asks, voice deadly and jaw clenching at the thought of one of his Serpents trying to destroy the thing he loved most.

“Tallboy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, what did you guys think!? I wanted to put a bit more action into this but don't worry, that will come next chapter. Is anyone surprised by the reveal? I thought it was a bit predictable but I still enjoyed it, leave a comment letting me know what you think! Happy Holidays.


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